The Buccaneer
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Part of my alternative Doctor's series with different versions of the Doctor. Trapped on Earth with another Time Lord, Theta Sigma learns of a terrible betrayal, while he is a member and later the Captain of a brutal gang of Pirates.
1. Chapter 1 First Time to Earth

Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who. I just own this and the other multiple universes I'm writing.

Feedback would be nice. Please tell me how you feel when you've read this story. Thanks.

Author's note - This story is one of my alternative Doctor stories where the Doctor as a child saw something different in the Untempered Schism. In this reality, all of the Doctors faces from canon are here, they're jumbled up, thats all.

First Time to Earth.

At the age of 336, Theta Sigma had graduated from the Time Lord academy with good marks, that was over a century ago when he was aged 236. Now a century older, Theta was bouncing around the TARDIS with excitement; granted, he was having to do it without his supervisor's notice, but it was good to actually feel excitement though he would have preferred to be the one operating the controls. He was just glad that his time demanding the High Council send him on a research mission had paid off along with all the trouble he'd caused them over the years.

Annar wasn't a bad person to be around, but he wasn't good company. The 790 year old Time Lord was much more of a maverick than other Time Lords, but he could still and would report Theta for any transgressions. For Theta, who had been working for years to secure the rights to own a TARDIS of his own and someday leave Gallifrey since he was so bored and thoroughly sick and tired of his family and their never-ending prattling about him becoming a member of the High Council.

Theta knew that his family wanted the best for him, but ever since that meeting with the Corsair when he was twelve years old, and when he'd heard the stories from the older and more experienced Time Lord, Theta's wishes to one day grab a TARDIS of his own and leave the Time Lords and Gallifrey behind and travel on his own to explore the universe for himself had just grown. For Rassilon's sake, he'd even begged the Corsair to let him come with him, he'd be the best assistant ever, but the Corsair had refused. Although he'd been hurt at first, it had taken a while for Theta to realise that he would need to find his own path for himself, and the Corsair was just the pointer down that path he wanted to take.

Theta thought about all those years he'd spent at the Academy as a result as the teachers and tutors working there had seemed to share his family's dream of him one day becoming the next Lord President. All of those endless rituals, those elaborately costumed ceremonies, the endless accumulation and steady pouring of second-hand knowledge gleaned from centuries of work which would never even be put to use in the future, all of that had frustrated Theta no end when he grew up.

He also remembered the steady increase of anger and frustration that the Time Lords were throwing shackles over him and his friends at the Academy, just to keep them locked on the planet where they'd spend all of their lives. Sure, some students like Runcible the Fatuous would love to remain of Gallifrey, and never see the point of leaving the planet to travel on their own, but Theta wasn't one of them. Then again Runcible was fascinated by those drab and boring rituals and traditions. As far as Theta knew, though he didn't really care, Runcible was going into the Public Register Video where he'd have time to admire all those rituals for the rest of his incarnations. Personally Theta imagined that it was a boring way to spend a few regenerations, but if Runcible wanted to go through all that, he wasn't going to say a word.

He just found it funny that although Runcible loved those rituals, loved to drone on about them in that solemn, boring, dull, pompous and reverent voice of his, he wanted nothing to do with the High Council or join them either. There Theta and he agreed.

Some Time Lords would argue and would say it was a great honour to even be a member of the council but not Theta, who knew only too well what kind of life he'd have. Never-ending parties, boring speeches, uninteresting topics, having to deal with Time Lords who should have been put out of pasture decades or even millennia ago, who were so used to being respected because of their family ties and their positions in society. Theta knew only too well that many of his class in the Academy wanted nothing more than to be members of the High Council themselves, but he didn't want anything to do with them.

The thought he would have to spend decades and the rest of his lifetimes having to stab and be backstabbed himself more than once, and having to endure having to live amidst gossip and scandal filled him with dread, and it didn't stop the bile moving up through his torso either.

Let them waste their lives, he thought to himself, its their lives, not mine. I want to save my regenerations for something worth while.

Theta looked around the TARDIS to distract himself from his thoughts, and then walked up to Annar. The older Time Lord looked middle aged with thick wavy hair that was dark with tones of white and grey in various shades, and solemn but piercing grey eyes.

"How soon before we arrive on Earth?" Theta asked him.

Annar glanced at him for a moment before he turned back to the console - the Type 53 TARDIS was one of the latest modern designs of TT capsule, but it was versatile. Theta's hands itched just to grab hold of them, he was a fully qualified pilot since he'd had motivation to since he wanted to leave Gallifrey and be a traveller like the Corsair.

And the other renegades, a treacherous part of his mind said. Theta didn't bother burying it since he'd long since wanted to become a renegade for years.

When he'd walked into this TARDIS, he had felt the telepathic circuits call out to him, hoping to link with him. But he had resisted, knowing that Annar would stop him, but he knew one thing. This TARDIS was going to be his. He just didn't know how, yet.

"We're almost there," Annar said, glancing casually down at the controls. "What do you know of Earth?"

Theta wondered if he wanted the text pad answer, but decided to mix it up. "It's the home world of the human race, the centre of multiple fixed points in time and space, making it a nexus point in causality. Once the home of the saurian species known to the humans as the Silurians and the Sea Devils, their aquatic cousins, Earth becomes the centre of numerous interstellar and intergalactic empires and federations, alliances, and republics. It's also the twin planet of Mondas, which is the home planet of the Cybermen. At the moment, we're travelling to Earth during its 18th century when human science and technology are still in their infancy."

Annar's face was borderline expressionless, but he nodded. "Good," he replied, "it's a relief you looked through the material, though I'm surprised as well. Your father told me before we left you were very lax about studying ahead."

Theta stepped back as he tried and failed to hide the hurt he felt, but hearing it again and again in his head made the young Time Lord angrier than ever; ever after demanding so much from him, making him have to jump through hoops only to be told he wasn't good enough, having to listen to him and mother go on and on and on about joining the High council, they still had no faith in him.

Hiding his emotions as he could, Theta managed to muster a good reply. "Well, what my father knows about my time at the Academy and what actually went on are two different things," he said.

Annar shrugged, seemingly uncaring about the issues between father and son. He'd probably had to see it so many times in the past it no longer bothered him that much. Finally the TARDIS materialised on Earth. Annar glanced at the computer once more and read off the readings. "Yes, Earth. In the country known as England, in their year 1796. Come, Theta," he said, leading the younger man away from the console room. "It's time we went to the wardrobe room."

Theta was surprised by that. "You mean we're going out there?"

He was surprised because until now, Annar had struck him as the by the book Time Lord, which meant that their time on Earth would be spent in the TARDIS in accordance with the Doctrine of Non-Intervention.

"Of course, how else do you expect us to learn more about humans just by staying inside the TARDIS?" Annar asked as though the whole thing was ludicrous.

Theta shrugged, personally he didn't really care about that stupid law since he had no intention of playing games with human history. He wasn't Mortimus who'd more than once complained how boring it was to monitor the same events happening throughout the universe, and always debated with the other members of the Deca about the ways history could be changed.

* * *

The sensation of the unfamiliar air on this primitive world was good for Theta since he had long since wanted to travel to worlds like this. He brushed his hands down his clothes, amazed that despite how ridiculous they appeared to him they were more comfortable and liberating than his normal everyday robes. Dressed in a bladder brown jacket with simple metal buttons, a white shirt, waistcoat and black breeches topped by a tricorn hat, Theta glanced back at Annar. Human fashions for this period of time were limited, and Theta had warned the other Time Lord about wearing anything too extravagant, telling him that humans who wore rich clothing and ventured out were victims of robberies in public.

So Annar was dressed much like he was, and together the two Time Lords walked through the crowded streets. They knew they were in a city called London, but that was as far as their knowledge extended. But it was crowded and their transport system was incredibly limited to some kind of carriage pulled by animals. Theta wanted to explore on his own, but he didn't dare since the humans knew this city better than he did, and he didn't want to look like a fool by asking one of them directions.

As the two Time Lords walked through the city, confident the TARDIS was scanning the planet even though it was made trickier since there were no radio waves, no primitive internet that the ship could use to gather information, but as they passed through the city the similarities and differences between them became more apparent.

"Are you sure you want to buy that?" Theta asked Annar as the older Time Lord led him inside a shop where clocks and watches were made. Annar wanted to buy an ornate silver fobwatch.

Annar passed the shopkeeper the appropriate money, and then spoke to Theta telepathically. "Of course I want to buy it. You should buy one, too. We are Time Lords."

"We don't even need them," Theta argued back though the thought of how good those fob watches looked did tempt him, "and besides, I don't think its a good idea to flaunt our money around either."

"Nonsense. We're perfectly safe."

Theta didn't say anything else as they went through the markets where Annar showed that he wasn't afraid to buy everything in sight. Along with the two fob-watches he'd purchased (Annar had insisted he had one of his own), he also bought a number of other trinkets that looked good rather than practical.

* * *

When the pair had finished their spending spree, though it was more Annar than Theta that spent the money, they'd gone to an eating establishment though it looked rather primitive, and the conditions inside were beyond filthy. For members of an advanced civilisation who knew the dangers of food poisoning, they opted to be as safe as possible. The two Time Lords avoided the worst of the mess and the filth, and as Theta ate his meal, and drank some of the beer he was given, he looked around listening as the humans chatted to themselves and gambled. He noticed that a few of the human women who wore less clothes, sat on the laps of some of them men, and by their manner Theta could guess they were about to go off for intimate relations.

He shrugged indifferently, he'd never really bothered with love or relationships after getting that grade during his time at the Academy about love. The humiliation and the scorn had made his family annoyed since they'd hoped he would be married off to a girl of their choosing, not his, and now as a result the young Time Lord had not bothered with love. He had no intention of staying in a relationship with a boring sycophantic, simpering little airhead simply because his parents deemed it right, and besides he didn't want anything to do with his parents if they pushed their hopes and their dreams down his throat.

"So what have you learnt today, Theta?" Annar asked him. He was presently eating a meal that looked brown, greasy, and disgusting. It made Theta sick just to look at it, but although he'd tried to avoid looking at the meal Annar was presently consuming he could still hear the sounds Annar made each and every time he ate or swallowed, and the sounds of him licking his lips made him more sick.

Theta decided not to tell him that humans had disgusting food, terrible hygiene, and poor cleaning habits, and opted to tell the other Time Lord something different instead, "It's crowded, very busy. They have dozens of markets that sell animals and vegetables and fruit, and I saw ships on the river. They carried a lot of cargo, so there's a booming trade."

Annar nodded, chewing thoughtfully before he reached for the beer tankard he'd been given, and took a generous gulp. Alcohol wasn't a common drink on Gallifrey, except in wines and half decent spirits and ales found in the under cities so it made sense that Annar was fascinated by the beer. "I noticed those ships as well, it would be fascinating to visit them."

Theta quirked a brow. "Sounds like you've no intention of visiting them," he commented.

"We might be," Annar said, though it sounded like he didn't care either way.

* * *

Leaving with a full stomach each, their heads not even swimming with the amount of beer they'd both drunk, Theta and Annar walked through the busy streets of London, noticing that despite the way most of the city was crowded, filthy and looking dilapidated, the two Time Lords couldn't help but compare the human city with the Capitol of the Time Lords.

Dominating the entire city was the mighty glass dome sitting above the under city, which rested inside a massive underground pit exposed to the open air. The over city was beautiful under the glass dome which shimmered under the light from the twin suns while the mountains shone, with the long grass soaking up the light, while the sunlight made the tree leaves look like silver fire.

The under city of the Capitol, and of the other cities covering Gallifrey, were where the Gallifreyans and the Shobogans lived. Theta had seen many cruel and callous pictures of the Time Lords being held above the ordinary Gallifreyans, knowing the people who'd depicted them as stupid and useless people had forgotten that Rassilon and Omega themselves had both been born Gallifreyans, and it was only through the centuries that they became Time Lords.

Here on Earth, London seemed a mixture between the dirty and the clean, and he could see the richly dressed men and women who travelled with his carriages. Theta also saw men with long guns carried by the hand and pressed into their left shoulders, wearing red uniforms with white and yellow added on, wearing neat looking black hats like the ones everybody else was wearing. Here and there, Theta saw children sneakily creep up behind adults and pick their pockets, always making sure to avoid being caught.

The sight of those children made Theta look around him and Annar in case one of them decided he and the older Time Lord looked like attractive prospects for having their pockets picked. After walking through the city for hours, they were both very far from the TARDIS, but they were both confident they could return to their timeship soon. In the meantime Annar had been spending a bit more, and they'd gotten quite a bit of stuff Theta was willing to call junk.

They were both on their way back to the TARDIS, as it was beginning to grow darker and humans went around lighting the lights on top of the tall posts, passing through the street with a carriage and two animals poised to ferry it on its way, when 3 humans stepped out of nowhere. Footsteps echoing on the cobbles behind them, Theta and Annar turned to find 4 other humans standing there, each one of them cradling knives and primitive looking firearms and clubs.

"What do you want?" Theta asked them, hoping that this was a mistake.

"We saw you spendin' that money around," one of the humans smiled, showing off crooked and yellow stained teeth.

"Now you're going to give it to us," one of the firearm waving humans ordered, pointing his weapon at the two Time Lords.

Annar sniffed, and Theta flinched when he realised that the other Time Lord believed he could make a stand and not get hurt, but these humans had no idea they were Time Lords. For crying out loud they didn't know about aliens yet.

Unfortunately, Annar's attitude instantly made the humans annoyed and more than a little disgruntled. They'd evidently come across attitudes like the older Time Lords' before, and they didn't like it. Two of the humans snarled and advanced on the two Time Lords, but two more of them lunged towards Theta, grabbing the young Time Lord by the arms.

Theta grunted and he tried to fight back, but his opponents were strong, really strong. It was hard for him to fight back, and it didn't help matters that he was being turned around and round like a circle so he couldn't see what was going on with Annar. Suddenly he felt a clubbing blow to the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground, dizzy from the pain and being spun around. His knees painfully impacted on the ground, and one of the humans came with him and crudely searched through his pockets, taking some of the coins Theta had taken from Annar. They also took the fob-watch from him and then left him on the ground before rushing off to help their friends deal with Annar.

Theta looked on.

Annar was actually a good fighter, he was holding on alright, but he was outnumbered and he was unarmed so Theta had no idea how he was able to fight back, but he imagined Annar was using sheer willpower to stay alive. The humans waved their clubs and knives around, but Annar always kept the humans away, always kicking the guns out of their hands whenever they tried to level them. Pushing his pain aside, Theta picked himself up to try to help his fellow Time Lord; they didn't care much about the trinkets, or at least they shouldn't, but Theta and Annar had the TARDIS key to worry about.

Theta pulled one of the humans off but didn't give him a chance to react, he just pulled his fist back and punched him int the face, and then in the gut. The human cried out in pain before dropped to the ground, but his cry of pain had caught his friend's attention and before Theta even knew it, three of the humans attacked him, and started beating him up.

Theta punched one of the humans, and grabbed the other and shoved him against the other, knocking them both to the ground, but the third human had finally gotten tired of the young Time Lord. Theta's eyes caught a flash of metal just as the knife blade went into his chest. Theta cried out in pain as he felt the knife slice through his lung, and nearly punctured his heart, and he felt himself weaken but he didn't let the injury get him down even though he knew that he was going to regenerate.

He ignored the humans asking why he was still upright, but they'd gotten tired of him and went to Annar. Theta staggered over to him, but he was too late. He saw one of the humans on the ground lying there after being kicked by Annar pick up his gun and aim it at the Time Lord.

"Annar, look out," Theta called out, but it was too late.

The gun fired, and the Annar staggered.

" _The bullet…..I think it's gone through both of my hearts,"_ Annar said telepathically, falling to the ground.

" _Annar, no,"_ Theta whispered telepathically.

The telepathic contact with Annar was fading with each nanosecond, but he had enough mental strength to say something important to Theta. _"Theta, the Time Lords…..don't contact them, they won't help."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _The Time Lords allowed you to come on this mission because they wanted to exile you,"_ the older Time Lord said, _"you have been causing them problems recently, and so they decided to get rid of you. I was ordered to bring you here to Earth and leave you here. But I have grown fond of you. They'd described you as a menace, but when I met you my mind was changed."_

Mission completed, Annar fell to the ground, but he used the last of his strength to reach into his pockets and throw the TARDIS key towards Theta, who caught it with the last remnants of his strength, still staggered and horrified by the lengths his own people were willing to go to get rid of him.

The humans saw the throw just as Annar collapsed to the ground, dead. Theta saw the humans' expressions and he staggered back in pain, feeling the regeneration beginning. He was too busy keeping the humans back - he was dimly aware of a door opening, and laughter behind him, but he didn't pay attention, even as he leaned against the carriage.

"Yaa! Yaahhh!" A voice behind him bellowed, and the animals that pulled the carriage began to surge forward, and an idea popped into Theta's mind, and he grinned weakly and jumped onto the carriage even as it pulled away. The last thing Theta saw as the carriage picked up speed were the humans trying, and failing to chase after the carriage.

Weakened from the injury, Theta gave in and held on as tightly as he could, mentally programming his body to hold onto the carriage as he closed his eyes and tried to hold the regeneration back for a while to try to heal. If he was going to regenerate he was going to want to be rested.

* * *

When he woke up, it was absolutely pitch black, and the carriage rattled as it sped towards it's destination, Rassilon only knew where it was, but he knew he was out of the city, and that wasn't good. The roads weren't exactly smooth, and Theta's body paid for it with each jump the carriage made as it came across potholes. He groaned each time as the potholes sent pure pain through his chest, his body feeling sore and he looked at his hand. It was beginning to glow. Theta groaned and rested his head on the back trunk of the carriage, but that wasn't a good idea. The next pothole jerked his head upwards.

Groaning, the Time Lord let go of his hand hold of the carriage, only briefly preparing himself mentally for the impact. Theta let go and when he impacted on the ground travelling at 34 mph, he felt several of his bones break and he rolled over himself again and again with the momentum until he finally stopped, crying out in pain with each roll. Somehow, and he had no idea how, but he

Theta stopped, groaning and gasping in pain. He felt as though each and every bone in his body had either shattered or were on their way to breaking completely if he moved at all. For a long while, he wasn't sure how long since the impending regeneration was making it hard for him to use his Time Lord senses to get an idea of what time it was, never mind how many bones had been broken.

It took Theta a long time - years later he'd estimate he'd been lying there, alone with Annar, separated from the TARDIS and completely away from Gallifrey, but he would never know for sure, though his best guess was half an hour - to muster the energy to move from his spot. He would have loved to stay in the same position, but he knew he couldn't; for a start he didn't want to regenerate here and move his body out of an awkward position lying down. His body would be under enough stress as it was after it's rejuvenation, and besides this was a road. How long would he have to wait before another coach or even a cart laden with heavy materials came clattering up or down this road? And besides, first regenerations were very dangerous for the Time Lord and they left the body in an unstable state for a while before it settled, and if a cart plowed into or over him if he lay down, then the change could be triggered again, putting a lot of stress on the body.

Concentrating his mental energy into pushing the regeneration back even if he could feel it beginning to build up and using the same concentration to pick himself up from the ground, Theta nearly cried out again as he lifted himself off the group, feeling his broken bones and he nearly collapsed again, but he managed to right himself. He sighed when he realised he didn't have much choice.

Closing his eyes, Theta concentrated on his regeneration energy, and let go of some of the dams he'd placed to prevent the regeneration happening with him just laying there. He instantly felt the regeneration energy surge through his body, he felt his muscles and flesh tingle and he felt and heard his broken bones snap back into place, and he gasped at the sensations as they crossed over his body. Feeling stronger now, Theta crawled towards the edge of the road, and he didn't stop until he was hidden behind a mass of thick trees and bushes. The local fauna scratched at his native clothing, but Theta simply didn't care. Ignoring the wish of simply laying flat on the ground to rest, Theta pushed himself into a painful position where he was sitting on his knees.

He closed his eyes and let go of his control and concentration of holding the regeneration back; he hated the thought of losing a regeneration because of a band of humans, but he knew it was the only way to stay alive. He couldn't die now. He was too young, and he knew that Annar had died to give him a chance to escape. How could he spit on something like that?

But he didn't want to lose his first incarnation, not like this. He'd wanted his first life to die naturally, smoothly and preferably when he was travelling the universe in his own TARDIS. All the time he was thinking this Theta's body had begun to glow, and then the regeneration went critical. He screamed in pain as the energy ripped through his body. When it was over, he collapsed to the ground unconscious.

The cool air was what woke him first, but as he turned on his bed of soft but gritty soil, but as soon as he moved he gasped in pain as he moved his limbs. Moving into a position where he was leaning on the ground, propped up by shaking hands, he closed his eyes and mentally checked his body as his memories returned to him.

Like when you've woken from a heavy sleep and your brain is so fogged you needed a moment to clear your mind, he needed the same thing. After a minute his mind began to clear again, and his memory returned.

He knew his name was Theta Sigma, well his Academy nickname, though he was still trying to think of a name that defined him. He was 336 years old, and he was a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, here on a research mission to Earth with another Time Lord called Annarand then the memory of what had happened to the other Time Lord and his final act of giving him the TARDIS key, hopping onto that coach and then falling unconscious and then finding himself alone in this forest in the dark.

Then he'd regenerated after pushing the effects from him for hours, and then finding himself without any clue at all to where he was, and he realised he hadn't bothered to look up at the stars in London before falling asleep in that healing coma and when he'd woken up from falling off that coach. He knew he was somewhere but he didn't know where he was. It didn't help that his geography of Earth was so limited anyway, but this was important - hehad to get back to London, get back to the TARDIS.

Remembering the TARDIS, Theta gasped as he felt for his TARDIS key, and found it lodged in his boot. He sighed with relief. Without the key he'd never have managed to get it unlocked. Slipping the key back into his pocket - he'd think of a more decent hiding spot later - Theta stood up painfully, and he ran a hand over his face - he frowned when his fingers felt the new physiognomy, and his hair felt longer and rougher, too. That was the secret of regeneration - while the mind stayed the same, with no personality deviances, the face changed completely, and so did the body

Taking in deep breaths, Theta walked away from where he'd been. He still groaned at the aches in his body, but he pushed them aside as he walked away. It would take time, but he'd get used to his new incarnation before long.


	2. Chapter 2 Press ganged into Service

Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who

Press Ganged into Service.

Disorientated from the painful regeneration, reminding himself that the first regeneration of a Time Lord was the most painful, Theta walked away from the place where he'd fallen off the carriage - he didn't know which direction he was going, but if he could find a town or another city, he might find passage back to London and back to the TARDIS. Along the way to wherever he was going, he came across some water, and he taken a drink to restore his strength, and he'd seen his reflection. His face looked a bit weathered, but he'd get used to it in time. But he had no idea what he should do next, because if what Annar had said to him during that telepathic conference before his death, before regeneration could set in, was true, then he'd get no welcome back on Gallifrey.

Exile.

Even in his current state, Theta could remember all too well how many times he'd caused problems for the High Council when he'd been arrested for murder, but it hadn't been a murder since he had managed to declare his innocence, but the incident had embarrassed the High Council because they had lost a lot of face. The High Council of the Time Lords liked their subjects to believe they were all seeing, wise, noble and benevolent, and every decision that they made was done with extreme care and deliberation, but when the Time Lords had believed he had murdered Anzor even if the slimy bastard had deserved it, only to discover that Anzor wasn't just still alive but had planned to create a conspiracy.

With every step he took, he thought about the Time Lords and what they'd just done. If he was really exiled from Gallifrey, that meant that Annar had planned on just dumping him on the planet since he was ordered to do that, but he was surprised Annar had even told him about it, and it made him wonder if the other Time Lord had been sincere.

Theta mused on the two choices he had. He could contact the Time Lords with the hypercube he carried on his person, and they'd either send a rescue unit to recover him and the TARDIS, or they would simply ignore him to whatever fate awaited him on Earth. As Theta kept walking, pushing past the post regenerative problems in his body to focus on the journey - he cursed his lack of knowledge about Earth, wished he could find some sign of civilisation even if the humans were so primitive at this point of their history - he could feel the haze around his brain which resulted from the regeneration fading, and all that time he thought about the hypercube pieces inside his pocket.

It would be so simple and easy to contact and summon the Time Lords to take him away from this century where he could plan his actual escape from Gallifrey so he'd be better prepared. All he would need to do was sit down, concentrate on the hypercube, program it with his memories of the last 24 hours and use a simple telepathic pulse to send it Gallifrey.

No, he thought to himself after a while, realising that Annar was telling the truth about the Time Lords exiling him to Earth, using the latest TARDIS to entice him into leaving, and then he'd be abandoned on this planet for however long the Time Lords could get over their embarrassment even though the blame lay with Anzor's father for raising the bastard in the first place.

Theta had planned on going renegade, now he was except in one sense, he didn't have a TARDIS at the time being. He worried about the TARDIS as well since the Time Lords could very easily snatch it back to Gallifrey, but they hadn't cared about what had happened to the TARDIS taking the Rani to wherever they'd planned to send her; it was an open secret that the Rani had managed to hijack her TARDIS after that business with the giant mice, and he hoped the same was true of him. He didn't want to spend the rest of his lives on this stinking planet, unable to flee, unable to see the rest of the universe.

It took hours, but eventually the young Time Lord found a sign that said PLYMOUTH, 5 MILES. Theta sighed, unsure if his boots could take that distance after he'd walked miles already, but he set off regardless. It was dark by the time Theta arrived in the town, and he was instantly take aback by the fresh salty air of the sea. He could hear muffled and raucous laughter coming from the inns and taverns that littered the town like the craters on a moon.

Theta watched more people on those animals backs trotting through the town, and he wondered how he could return to the TARDIS - there was no chance of him going back to London on foot if he could help it, besides he had no idea which direction to take. He looked at the inns longingly. He was tired and hungry and thirsty - he was suffering an energy deficit from the regeneration, but as he let his eyes study the town streets he came to the conclusion he'd need to find some sort of work in order to pay for passage to London. And he would also need to know which direction London was in, but he would need to do it carefully. He looked old enough by human standards to be aware of that kind of knowledge, but Theta knew he could always telepathically read their minds.

Theta went inside one of the inns, got himself some beer and something to eat, and when the woman slammed his food down in front of him Theta had to hide the sneer he was holding back, but he tucked into his meal of coarse bread, cheese and a piece of dried meat. He made sure to sit down in a corner of the place, and he could see that the people who ran it were more hygienic than the one he and Annar had dined in before the attack, but he didn't care. As he ate and drank slowly, he thought about his plans, and decided that this was a good a place as any to getting enough money to head back to London, and back to the TARDIS. He had no doubt he'd find some work, there was bound to be something, and while many Time Lords would balk about working in a degrading job on a primitive world that hadn't split the atom of even developed the theory of relativity yet he didn't because he knew he had no other option. Theta was realistic enough to know that, but he cursed in his mind with each bite he took of his cheese - he didn't like the taste or the texture of the food, but he knew he had no choice since it had the right nutrients, the meat might have been drier than a bucket of sand, and the bread could've been leather for how easy it was to chew, but washed down with the beer made it all bearable to him.

Theta was just polishing his meal off and preparing to ask one of the humans if they knew anyone who needed someone to work for them when he heard someone call out fearfully, "A PRESS GANG, A PRESS GANG!"

It was a young woman who was sitting to to a man her age, and she was looking out of the window in wide eyed terror. Theta followed her gaze, but he couldn't see anything or anyone, all the time wondering what a press gang was.

All of the men got up to run fearfully away, Theta stood up as well, wondering if it was some kind of bizarre hunting ritual where men where killed off for a cultural reason, but also because he didn't want to look foolish by standing still. But it was too late, the door burst open and a crowd of black jacketed men with black hats with white brims rushed in, all of them armed with clubs and swords. They grabbed the protesting men in the inn, raising their weapons threateningly at anyone who tried to resist , and seeing that Theta didn't bother; he'd just regenerated, and he was still within the first few hours of his regeneration, but the walk had been a long one. He was too tired to fight, and besides he didn't know what was going on. They were followed by two men who were dressed differently, smarter than the others with white frilled shirts and waistcoats topped by navy blue jackets and black tricorn hats.

One of these two men smiled. Theta disliked him immediately, seeing the sadistic pleasure on his face as he looked around the suddenly silenced inn.

"A fine haul," he commented to the other man.

"Indeed, sir," the other man said.

The first man, the sadistic one, looked around the crowded inn - Theta had questions on his mind, but even he knew better than to tempt fate by asking stupid questions at a time like this. He had no idea what all this was about, but he knew the others were afraid. He could see it in their eyes, the way they struggled against the men who'd come with the two men in what looked like uniforms…..they knew what was going on, that made sense - this was their planet, they knew their way around, he was a stranger here.

The man with the sadistic air smirked. "My name is Lieutenant Simpson, I am the first officer of the HMS Raven. You are now members of the crew, congratulations."

"No," the young woman cried, and she ran towards the officer, and she grabbed hold of his jacket. "Please, not my husband. I'm pregnant, he can't leave me-"

SLAP!

"No, Elsie!" Her husband called, struggling to reach his wife but he was held back.

Simpson loomed over the woman. "I don't care if your pregnant or not, woman," he hissed. "Your husband is now an able seaman. He will be at sea on a ship, my ship, and if your lucky he'll come back with his limbs intact."

Leaving the woman called Elsie, Simpson gestured towards the men who'd come with him. "Bring all the men we've caught," he said as if nothing had happened, "and lets go."

Simpson and the other uniformed officer left the inn, so they didn't hear one of the men whisper to Elsie and her husband, "We'll try to keep him alive, but with that bastard Simpson around, who knows what will happen?"

* * *

Herded with the men caught in the inn, Theta stayed silent as they were taken to the dock and sat in a boat. There were other boats surrounded by screaming children and women who were crying for their fathers, cousins, brothers, etc., but they were hopeless as they were taken to five different ships that were close to the harbour. The boat Theta and his group were in were heading for the second ship, and while Theta had questions he wanted answered, he felt it was a good idea to remain silent still.

He looked around the array of faces - it might have been dark still, but he could still see the faces of the men who no less than 20 minutes ago had been drinking, singing and laughing. Now they were looking resigned, and that scared Theta. What made it worse was he had no idea what was happening, why it was happening, and what was going to come. He had managed to work out that from Simpson when he'd announced to everyone in the inn they were members of the crew of his ship, but it was clearly a forcible recruitment mission and once you were in or in the officer's sights, that was it. Simpson hadn't been moved by the young woman called Elsie when she'd pleaded for her husband to be freed before it even started. Theta hadn't liked that cruel remark about her husband returning home with his limbs intact, that didn't make things easier for them.

Climbing up the side of the ship, Theta and the others were met by two men holding what looked like clubs. "Come on," one of them barked.

"Line up on deck," the other ordered.

After seeing Simpson hurry off towards the back of the ship through a door, Theta did as he was told, and he was quickly shoved between Elsie's husband and another man, who looked at him as though he was going to be sick, or die. When all of the men caught from the inn were lined up, Simpson came back with another man, this man was dressed in a more simple uniform of his own, and he held a large book and a pencil. Simpson surveyed the line up with a sneer, then he turned to the younger man next to him.

"Take down the names of all these men, Mr Waters, I want their names for the records of the ship," Simpson ordered.

The younger man reached up and pinched his black hat with his hand. "Aye, sir," he replied.

Simpson went on, "Then get them below decks. They'll help the hands in the morning when we set sail."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Waters walked down the line, and Theta thought up a name quickly. He might not have been on Earth long, but he had been exposed to quite a few names, so he decided to borrow one. "Name?" Waters asked the man two men away from Theta. The young Time Lord already learnt the names of several of the men caught with him at the inn. Elsie's husband was called Frost, and the man next to him was called Vance.

When Waters came to him, Theta was prepared. "Name?" Waters asked.

"John Clegg," Theta replied.

He had found the two names separately, John he'd overheard and found that he'd liked, and the second name, Clegg, inscribed on a shop.

Waters nodded, wrote down the details in the pages of his book, and then moved on. "Name?" he repeated.

"George Wilkinson," the man next to Theta said, now looking stronger, "going to take us down the channel, sonny?"

Waters reacted with incredible speed even Theta had problems tracking him. In less than a minute, Wilkinson was on the floor clutching his face after Waters had smacked him with what looked like a weak club. "One more word from you, Wilkinson, and I'll make sure you get twelve dozen lashes," he threatened. He lowered the club and then Theta could see it wasn't made of wood or even metal, it was made of rope.

Wilkinson whimpered, but he picked himself up.

It turned out later that Wilkinson wasn't the only person on the ship to give Water's problems. There was another man further down, and out of the corner of Theta's eye he could see him step out of line before Waters even reached him. "Sir-," the man next to this man tried to stop him, but the idiot pulled away, "I didn't sign up for the navy, I'm a lawyer for-"

The weedy looking man collapsed to the deck of the ship as two other men shoved him down, and then they started whipping him with those clubs of rope that Waters had. Waters observed for a minute before he ordered the two men to back off, and then he went back to what he was doing. By the time the young human had finished taking names, the man claiming to be a lawyer was still on the deck whimpering from the beating. Personally, Theta thought him kind of pathetic but wise in just keeping still.

"We don't care if you're a priest," Waters said down to him, the young man not even bothering to offer the man a hand so he could stand on his two feet again. "You're now a member of this crew, which means you eat when we tell you, live where we tell you, and work when you're told to work. If you don't do your duty, then you will be finding your time on board unpleasant. Don't try our patience again, now your name?"

The man whimpered. "James May."

Waters made a note. When the human was finished, Waters didn't bother saying anything to the line of men. "Take them below," he ordered another man.

Theta followed the others down into the depths of the ship, and he could feel in his hearts that things were going to become worse. Simpson and this Waters were sadistic, and so were some of the crew, who presumably had been taken like the others but had fallen into the culture of the ship. What did that say about them? What happened, did they suddenly give up all hope and decided that this life was better than what could await them ashore? Theta had no idea, but he knew he would soon find out.

He had no idea what was going to happen to him, but he knew a few things. One, he was on a ship with sadists, and he would need to learn how to keep his head down and keep quiet while learning all he could just to survive. Two, he had no idea how long he was going to be away from England, and when he might have the opportunity to return to the TARDIS and get away from the planet. While Simpson might have said to Frost's wife her husband could return years into the future with his limbs intact, Theta had no idea if the arrogant human was being truthful or not. Simpson had a rather arrogant, bigoted mind - it was very hard to telepathically read people like that. Third, he had to make sure he began thinking of himself as John Clegg rather than Theta Sigma. He also couldn't let anyone touch his chest, feel the second heart in his chest. The humans were a violent culture in this period of their existence and while they were not directing plasma or laser based weaponry, they were still dangerous. He would need to keep his head down and do his best to keep quiet while finding a way to escape.

Fourth, he had no idea if Annar was telling him the truth about the Time Lord's decision to exile him. He would need to find out if that was true or not. Theta had a hypercube, or at least the sides of one in his pocket, and he would need to make sure he kept them on him at all times. The sides of the cube would mean nothing to the humans, who wouldn't recognise components of a piece of technology their current science had no understanding of at the moment.

Theta was pointed towards his hammock, and he then spent the next twenty minutes along with everybody else the press gang had caught, struggling to get on. When the young Time Lord finally wrestled himself onto the swinging canvas bed, he snuggled into what was meant to be the covers. Time Lords didn't need as much sleep as humans, but Theta decided to try his best to get some rest. He was still pretty exhausted after his regeneration, and while the walk to Plymouth had been good to exercise his body after the renewal, it had exhausted him. The stress after he'd arrived had not helped matters either.

Theta closed his eyes, hoping that the next day would bring better things, but something in his hearts told him that he shouldn't get his hopes up.

* * *

Please review.


	3. Chapter 3 Mutiny

Most of punishments listed here actually happened to men of this time.

Mutiny.

John Clegg stood silently in line with the rest of his shipmates, watching grim faced as the cat o nine tails came down hard again on James Mays' back, making the unfortunate man whimper and scream through his gag as he tried once more to cry out for mercy, but Clegg knew nothing would come out of it. The sailor's strong back, strengthened by hours and hours of work on the ship after months at sea, skin darkened and sunburnt red despite months of being out here already, was ripped to pieces by the cat as the bosun flogged him repeatedly. With each whiplash, May's skin was ripped open, digging deeper and deeper into the flesh, and the ends of the cat were tugging so hard on the man's muscle, skin and tissue that Clegg feared there was no going to be extensive internal damage.

Humans, Clegg thought with contempt, were savage if they resorted to this as a punishment. But then with officers like Simpson and Waters, was it that much of a surprise? His eyes darted to the officers, and he felt nothing but pure disgust for these humans who dressed in their smart uniforms of dark blue with white breeches and waistcoats. They just stood there, some of them sneering or smirking with each lash of the cat as it slowly tore May's back to pieces, and if the young Time Lord needed anymore proof of human savagery he had it in spades. But some of the officers were clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, but the Time Lord didn't care if they were uncomfortable with the floggings. They were guilty of just standing nearby and letting things happen. Next to Simpson, who was smirking at the sight of another man who was being flogged for something he hadn't even done, stood the captain of the Raven.

Captain Thomas Abercrombie was much taller than Simpson, but if it weren't for the fact he had more flabbier features that were so darkened by the time he spent out in the sun and with a face lashed again and again by the climate of the sea's salty air and winds, you'd think he was Simpson's father. All but 3 of the officers on the ship were sadistic monsters, but that made things worse.

On civilised planets, this sort of brutality towards men who hadn't even done anything was frowned upon and severely punished, and while Clegg was sure not all sea captains were sadistic brutes, Abercrombies' actions coloured it for all of them. Seriously, tearing men's backs to shreds?

Out of all the officers, Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters were the worst, and they were helped by the captain's evil tempered assistant. Anderson was one of many people on the ship that Clegg and the others took the time to hate. Clegg didn't know if assistants were a necessity onboard a ship like this, but he didn't care about human culture. Mr Anderson spent most of his time lazing about the ship, but he had quickly made a lot of enemies onboard ship. When you made an enemy out of a member of the crew, you would either accidentally bump into them, or punch them in the face.

Anderson was more subtle.

Whenever someone crossed him in public, he had his loyal allies in Waters, Abercrombie, or Simpson in his corner, and they would brutalise whoever had gotten in Anderson's face. But the slimy little man had another weapon in his arsenal. Whenever he was bored, careless incidents would take place like buckets falling or belaying pins rolling down the decks with the swell of the sea, and while some of the crew were so incredibly stupid, and told the officers who were quick to attack they had had nothing to do with it though they were never believed.

While May was being flogged, Clegg's eyes picked out the man. He was dressed in a brown jacket, white ruffled shirt and simple grey waistcoat with polished black shoes. There was a curl to his lips as his eyes glinted in sadistic pleasure with each lash the cat took as it cut May's back to shreds. Everyone knew the captain's assistant had been responsible of that rope thrown from May's post at Abercrombie's side two days ago. May had been busy at work when Anderson had picked up a piece of rope, and lobbed it towards the captain. Half of the line had hit Abercrombie in his side, causing him to trip up in surprise.

Abercrombie had lost it with May. One moment May was hard at work with the lines, the next minute he was trying and failing to plead for his life, though May was smart enough not to expect much from the man. And that was what had lead to this. For sixth months now, many of the crew - including Theta - had conspired for a way to get rid of Anderson. Someone had suggested they just simply push the man overboard, but that was quickly shot down since one of the officers would guess what had happened.

While the punishment wore on and watching the punishment take its toll on May's body as he whimpered and shook from the pain and the blood loss, John Clegg, otherwise known as Theta Sigma though he'd had to put his Time Lord identity to one side to better hide on this ship full of humans, let his mind go back and focus on the past.

The Raven had been at sea for three months now, they had set out from Plymouth. Theta remembered the uneasy sleep he'd had the night before the crew were forced to set sail, lift up the massive and very heavy anchor, and generally put the ship to sea. Still dressed in the clothes he'd regenerated into, some of them ill-fitting but since the people of this era who were living in abject poverty had to make do with what they had, no one had really noticed or cared, Theta had worked with the others, doing his level best to stay unnoticed. Nowadays he dressed in the simple shirt with duck trousers that fit snugly around his waist that went down to his ankles while he went barefoot on deck, and he had a more weatherbeaten face than before and his clothes and hands already smelt like fresh tar and salty sea air.

When the Raven had first set sail from Plymouth harbour six months ago, all of the crew - save for Theta and the newly pressed men - knew what they were doing. Unintelligible orders were barked left and right and were obeyed without question. The newly pressed men were forced aloft, something that had many of them quaking in fear, but between their terror of heights and the threatening behaviour of the officers and their underlings forced them to go up. It didn't help matters that it didn't occur to those same officers and underlings that their new recruits were more likely to get in the others way because they didn't know how to sail a ship.

One experienced sailor was kind enough to reassure them all. "There's a nothin' more pitiable than a landsman startin' a sailor's life," he had said, "Don't fret lads, within a month, ye'll be scurrying 'round 'tis ship to follow the same orders wi'out a seconds thought."

The old sailor was right. It hadn't taken long for Theta, who was by then going by the name of Clegg, to experience the changes the months of hard work. In the past such work would have been seen as beneath a Time Lord, and Theta had thought his people must be having a laugh if they showed their sense of humour in public, but he had done it because if he had decided that until he had a better plan in mind it was better to just submit. Theta was worried about the crew - Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters were new officers, and they'd already made it clear to their crew that they didn't care about the wellbeing, and while their punishments had been reasonably light in the harbour, all of that changed when they were out at sea. Floggings, shouting, being clapped into irons…..it was all extreme. And the worst part of it was too many of the officers went along with it all, and their compliance with Abercrombie allowed the captain, the first officer and the ship's only midshipman to get away with their crimes.

But even in those horrible moments when the ships' atmosphere was like a bomb about to blow up, Theta had to admit when the trade winds stretched the sails until they were taut and made the rigging hum, layers of canvas lapping each other in patterns as the wind pushed the sails along on their journey, the views were beautiful.

It was just a shame the ship wasn't. In Theta's eyes the ship was definitely like a bomb that was about to explode with how Abercrombie, Anderson, Simpson and Waters behaved. On the lower decks, bunks and hammocks were shared by the watches, and open gangways let in as much air and sunshine into the rest of the ship, but most of the ship was dark and much of it was in shadow, lanterns provided the light during the storms that occurred so regularly it was a wonder they didn't happen more often. Each man had his kit of eager possessions and changes of clothing meant to last for a few years on board the Raven. When they weren't on watch or at work, on deck or aloft, the crew would sleep, living amongst the coils of rope for the rigging, spare sails, and patch cloth. They would even share their living space with animals that were destined to be used for food; Theta found it disgusting the humans crammed their own people and animals into small, tightly confined spaces, but since the humans hadn't discovered that aspect of health yet, it wasn't a surprise. Still, it was disgusting having to wake up every morning with the stench of animals in his nostrils, and Theta was thankful for his respiratory bypass system.

Belowdecks whenever Simpson and waters weren't busy terrorising the crew, some of the old sailors would tell stories about their time at sea. Many of them had been pressed into service, much like Theta had, but they had adapted to their life.

"Ye've not got much choice, lads," one of the sailors told them one night, three days after Raven had put to sea. "Ah've been at sea for 20 year now, and ah've been moved from one ship ta another. The fact is, ya get used to life at sea. Ah was pressed in Portsmouth, and ah've seen ma home town many times, but ah've never left, or escaped. At first ah thought I'd manage to escape, but it weren't worth it. Ah was better off onboard a ship. Why, ye'll ask? It's good work, depending on the captain. Some of 'em are good, but anyone's better than Abercrombie."

Abercrombie.

Unlike Simpson and Anderson, Abercrombie was curious. He had his good days and he also had his worst days. When the ship had put to sea, the captain of the Raven had kept himself to himself, barely uttering more than a few words to anyone as he handed out orders to his officers.

But that hadn't lasted long. Within days of their departure, Abercrombie had lost his temper towards three men, two of them had been at sea for years while the third had only recently been pressed, and he accused them of bad seamanship, and he'd had one of them whipped with ropes' end. It didn't take long for Abercrombie to become as bad, if not as worse, than Simpson and Waters.

Abercrombie acted paranoid. He regularly accused members of the crew for theft of valuable food supplies. That made no sense to Theta; he had seen some of the food supplies, and was appalled since he knew they wouldn't last long without refrigeration, and with the presence of insects their edibility was always in question. Only the most desperately stupid member of the crew would steal the food, and the new members brought on board from the press gangs' efforts were quickly told not to steal the food since it was for all of them.

But some of the food still went missing.

And Theta had a good idea who was behind it all. Abercrombie, Simpson, Waters and Anderson were getting fat, but the young Time Lord was not stupid enough to speak aloud about it, but what annoyed him the most was everyone was accused of it. Worse yet, Abercrombie arranged random inspections of the lower decks where the crew lived, and he always found something incriminating - a crumb of cheese, a rind of meat, that sort of thing - and he would have that man taken out on deck, and he would be flogged without giving anyone the chance to prepare. Seven members of the crew had already suffered, and some of them happened to be men who had already crossed the likes of Abercrombie's favourites like Anderson or Waters. But something told the young Time Lord the worst of the punishments were yet to come.

Theta could see it in the man's eyes. Abercrombie was a rather plump man with multiple chins in a flabby face that was sunburnt red, with pale blue eyes under a small thatch of whitish grey hair of indeterminate colour. There was something in the man's eyes whenever he watched a flogging, or whenever he was actually on deck, his eyes scanning every member of the crew in his line of sight. It was a look that everyone, Theta included, was beginning to worry about because every time Abercrombie stared at anyone with that expression, it usually meant trouble for them. The only problem was no one knew what punishment Abercrombie would come up with. As the captain of the Raven, he was practically judge and jury.

Clegg was shaken out of his reverie when the drums stopped. The bosun stopped flogging May, and the man slumped across the mast he was tied to in relief, shaking even as the blood from his torn and ruined back ran down and soaked into the white of his trousers.

"Off hats," Simpson barked and everyone followed that order.

Abercrombie watched without emotion as May was cut down. "Take him to the doctor," he ordered coldly. before he added in a cruel tone, "Hopefully he's learnt a lesson about not to throw things at me from across the deck."

When the hands were dismissed, Clegg went back to work, his mind going back to the seaman's words about becoming so used to a lifetime at sea, and he had to admit he had become so accustomed to life on the Raven, but he was still a Time Lord, and without the TARDIS he wouldn't have complete Time Lord status. Some of the old humans on board the ship, old by human standards but children compared to the enormous lifespan of a Gallifreyan, might have adapted to the life of a sailor, but Theta didn't have to. He had no intention of living the rest of his second life on board ships like the Raven, having to deal with officers like Abercrombie, or arrogant little bags of slime like Anderson. Besides, at some point he'd find a way to escape. He would escape.

* * *

Later that night, Clegg was resting in his hammock, listening to the creaks as the ship rocked and rolled. It hadn't taken long for him to start to enjoy the sounds of the ship mixed with the violin music and the stories told again and again by the sailors. The sound of footsteps on his right made him glance to the side, and he saw Frost climb into his own hammock.

"How's May?" he whispered.

Frost shook his head with a sigh. "He's doin' alright," he replied, "surprised he can still walk. But he ain't dead, I thought after his back were torn to bits-" he shuddered.

"I know," Clegg replied, staring resolutely up at the old timbers overhead.

Frost was silent for a few minutes, then he whispered, "John, do y'think we'll be on this ship forever? I've got a wife, a baby-"

Clegg knew that, the entire crew knew it. "What do you want me to say, honestly? We're trapped onboard a ship with bastards like Abercrombie and Anderson, miles away from dear old England, and there's nothing we can do about it. I'm sorry," he added after a moment, "that was unfair of me. Sorry, Tom."

Tom Frost choked on a sob. He hated being on this ship, hated being threatened with floggings, and he hated the terrible food. It was a miracle he had friends to help him through the worst of the mess. The first chance he had, he would try to escape, but he didn't dare do that when they reached their destination - wherever that was.

Clegg sighed mentally. He could telepathically hear every thought coming from Frost, and he wasn't surprised since many of Frost's thoughts were similar to those in Clegg's mind. Unfortunately, Clegg knew many of Frost's ideas to escape simply would not work. "Don't think about escaping, Tom," he warned. "I want to leave as well. We're trapped on this ship, and there's nothing we can do about it. Think for a minute, think if you and I managed to escape. Even if we reached wherever we're heading to, we can't escape. We need a way to return to England, and that means we'd have to board another ship bound for England, and we'll be back at square one. We'll be caught by the crew and clapped into irons or forced to work with the second crew. And then, if we returned in one piece, do you really think we'd get away with the desertion? No, we wouldn't. You and I would pay for it with our lives, and there's no chance your child will ever see you ever. The best way we can get out of here is if we work together. If we work on our own, we'll die, but if we're together then we can win."

Frost went quiet, thinking about what Clegg had just said. The Time Lord exhaled through his nostrils gently, hoping that Frost took everything he said onboard. "Why do you want to go back so badly?" The young human asked quietly. "You don't talk about yourself, whether you've got a family, a wife or a baby. Why do you want to go back?"

There was no way Clegg could tell Frost about the TARDIS, he wouldn't understand for one thing, and even if he did believe him there was no chance he'd be able to prove it. There was also the problem of explaining the fact he was a Time Lord, humans hadn't encountered aliens yet, there was no way Frost would accept him and his presence here.

"Because I want to live my own life," he said after a minutes thinking it all through in a moment. "And part of my hopes is that I'm free to do what I want, when I want. I don't want to spend years of my life onboard a ship, watching floggings every week. No scurvy. No accusations of theft, and I know I'm not the only one. You, and everyone else I know on this damn log thinks the same thing."

Frost couldn't say anything to refute that. "What do you think we should do, John?" he asked.

Checking to make sure he wasn't being overheard, Clegg leaned over the hammock, making sure he didn't fall out as he did, and whispered, "Nothing just yet. Something will turn up for sure, believe me."

* * *

As the months wore on the brutalisation of the crew grew worse, and very quickly the more sadistic officers on the ship grew more out of control, so much so Clegg wondered if there were aliens nearby interfering with their brains, but since his more advanced Time Lord brain had senses most aliens would never be able to comprehend that was unlikely.

While Abercrombie didn't involve himself much besides appearing on deck and working with the ship's Master who was in charge of the navigational position of the ship - Clegg couldn't understand the humans and their primitive and so incredibly basic means of navigation since he could tell where they were simply by looking up into the skies and studying the position of the stars but after seeing for himself what kind of man Abercrombie was he knew it was unlikely the man would accept his advice. Clegg had also joined the group of men - it was actually a sizeable chunk of the crew - who wanted to do something about Abercrombie. Quickly before he became too mad to cope with.

One night the men met together secretly. Clegg, Vance, May and Frost and Brown met with other men, quite a few of them had been flogged while others were scared; they knew it was only a matter of time before they themselves were targeted, and Abercrombie was becoming increasingly paranoid as this hell of a voyage went on. He was starting witch hunts everyday for trivial things. Clegg wasn't stupid, neither were some of the other conspirators on the ship. They were planning a mutiny on the ship and Clegg had no intention of not being part of it because he knew that sooner or later he could be flogged himself, or something would happen that would make him a part of it. Besides Waters was becoming increasingly hard to take.

The midshipman had always been a bully, now he was becoming increasingly confrontational with everyone around him, and sooner or later things were going to get out of hand. Waters was getting into everyone's faces and it was a serious test of people's control that they didn't just punch the man in the face and break his jaw.

"Are we all here?" One of the older, more experienced and more educated members of the group asked.

"Get on with it," another snapped harshly, "we can't stay down 'ere long. Waters will be comin' around by now."

"Right, a few more seem ready to join us, but we can't ask them directly in case one of them goes to Abercrombie."

"They can't do that," Clegg interrupted, "Abercrombie doesn't let anyone speak to him. That includes the officers."

That was true. A few weeks ago, a pretty bold seaman who'd been one of the last press ganged into service onboard ship had made the dubious and risky decision to speak to Abercrombie - no one knew what the idiot planned to say to the man - but no one could be ignorant of the outcome. Abercrombie was furious with the idiot, and had had him flogged - 24 lashes - and then clapped into irons for two weeks; honestly the human punishments and their brutality shocked and disgusted Theta, it was amazing the species hadn't wiped themselves out to extinction because of them.

No one knew what the man had said to Abercrombie about to get himself punished so severely in the first place, but no one could deny that afterwards the man had refused to talk about it.

The problem was no one in their right mind would want to speak to Abercrombie since the man scared everyone to death, and since the man didn't really show himself up on deck and whenever he was on deck, no one knew what kind of mood he was in because he could change in a heartbeat. Abercrombie could be passive and mild one second, and then he could become a raging, foaming at the mouth monster the second.

"Maybe one of 'em will go to Waters or Simpson, then," someone suggested.

Clegg shook his head. "I don't think so," the Time Lord said, "I've noticed those two looking a bit worried. They might be taking the brunt of Abercrombie's temper more than us."

"Can we get on with this? Even if Waters is afraid of Abercombie, they're still in a better position to tell him what we're planning," someone begged, "we've got to make a plan that can work."

"I still can't believe we're going to take the ship," one man whispered to himself and his closest neighbours, "but what do we do when we've taken the ship anyway?"

"We go home, back to England!" Someone crowed like it was obvious. The other men cheered their agreements, but one man had to put a stop to it.

"We can't go home," Clegg said, not thinking twice about the lie, "we can't. If we take the ship, go back home, the Navy will realise what we've done at some point even if we lie, or they will shove us onto different ships or ship us back out again on the same mission Abercrombie is taking us on."

"He's right," the man desperate for the meeting to be finished said in agreement when he'd worked it out in his brain, "going home won't do any good."

"But we can't stay here forever," Frost said desperately, glaring at Clegg who stared back, "how 'bout we take the Raven into port wherever we're goin'-"

"Can't do that either, we'd probably be blamed for Abercrombie, and besides the governors will probably have us arrested."

The answer came to Clegg at once. "Who says we have to use the Raven at all? Think about it, we're not far from our destination, I heard the sailing master discuss it yesterday. We've got three more weeks, we have got to be in control of the ship before then. We can destroy the ship before it reaches the harbour, so while everyone's panicking and wondering what's going on, we will have already sneaked ashore and found another ship we could take, and then we leave. We'd have stolen the other ship, but the end result's worth it."

Silence reigned as the other conspirators in the group took in the radical idea. Slowly and with increasing enthusiasm, they agreed with him. But Clegg had another idea, one he kept to himself.

* * *

More than half of the crew had been flogged by the madness going on board the Raven, and Clegg was about to become one of them. He hadn't even done anything wrong, he had just been picked up on a whim of Abercrombie's. The Time Lord was dragged up on deck by two men who were more frightened of Abercrombie than anybody else, and while he was being led to the grating that hadn't even been taken down but was rather left strung up on deck since it was used practically every day. Clegg winced as his shirt was taken off exposing the unblemished skin of his back, and his hands were tied as gently as they could to the grating. The gag was shoved into his mouth to stop him from biting down on his tongue, though truthfully Clegg had the suspicion Abercrombie or Simpson would try to stop that from happening because they would love nothing more than to see men suffer even more by biting down on their tongues by accident during a flogging, but Clegg hoped they didn't go that far.

Clegg stood still for a second, calming his mind down and preparing to use his Time Lord training. It was not easy to torture Time Lords since they could use their mental disciplines to resist pain if they chose to. But he knew better than to push his mind into a complete immersion since Abercrombie loved to hear the sounds of men under the lash.

The first strike of the cat whipping his back took Clegg by surprise at first, but he managed to block off most of the pain he felt.

"Sail sir!" The man in the crows's nest shouted down, interrupting the flogging.

Abercrombie glared up at the man. "What?" He shrieked.

"Sail sir, there's a ship coming towards us on the port bow. Sir, it's a French ship sir."

Still immersed in his desire to see Clegg flogged, Abercrombie needed a moment to work out what was being said. When it occurred to him, it was nearly too late because the familiar blast of a cannon being fired echoed through the air, and the ball just passed through one of the sails and dropped into the ocean with a splat. Clegg struggled to get free but it was hopeless even as Abercrombie barked useless orders, but it was almost too late. The crew manned the cannons, but since the French ship had been prepared for action long before the lookout even noticed their ship Clegg didn't know how long it would take for the crew to actually load their cannons. Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters had been so busy whipping and beating the crew they had not bothered or cared enough about making sure they were ready for a fight. The idiots had been so pleased by their sadistic tendencies they had left their ship vulnerable.

Clegg took advantage of the confusion to try to get himself out of this mess - he had no idea if the cannonballs would smash into his back or not, he wasn't going to test it - and he managed to spit the gag out of his mouth.

"Hey, get over here and get me out of this!" He shouted at one of the crew members. It was Frost. He looked left and right to make sure Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters couldn't see him, not that Clegg could blame him, and untied him. Clegg massaged his wrists and rushed with Frost to the gun they'd been assigned to, and they quickly loaded it.

May and Brown looked up in surprise at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?" May whispered as they worked on the gun.

Clegg winced as he moved around the gun, picking up a ball and a couple of wads. "If you think I'm going to end being tied to a grating in the middle of a fight where a random cannonball or musket shot is going to kill me, then you've got another thing coming May," Clegg replied as she shoved the wadding and the ball into the barrel. Such an injury, he reflected, would probably cause him to regenerate, but regeneration was the last thing Clegg wanted to do on this ship. He was still in the early days of his second incarnation and he had still settling in, and even if one of the more fearful members of the crew didn't shoot him during the process there was no guarantee he would still be sane for a long time afterwards.

Clegg was determined to avoid regeneration for a long time afterwards - it was agonising enough to go through it once, but to go through it again after being hit by a cannonball was not something Clegg wanted to endure.

"FIRE!" The officers relayed the orders of the captain, but the problem was many of the cannons weren't even fully loaded yet thanks to the men being so overworked and so tired they could not even tell what they were doing. When the cannons fired a second after the order was given only a few of them actually managed to fire their payloads.

On deck Abercrombie was furious when only a few guns on his ship fired, but his curses against his crew was drowned out by the firing from the French crew. The humans and the rivalries between their nations had already reached Clegg's awareness, but while he ignored the English crew's derision against the French he had to admit the other crew was very efficient. Must have a better captain than us, he thought sourly as he reloaded his gun.

The French fired again when the English tried to reload and the cannonballs punched into the hall, splintering the wooden hull, and Clegg realised very quickly that they weren't going to win this fight. He could see out through the gunport the French ship was not as large as the Raven. In fact it looked like it was roughly the same size with presumably the same number of guns. While that should've just been a simple case of two ships having a fight, the French ship had a better trained crew onboard. The Raven crew were demoralised, they'd been whipped and beaten so many times, cursed and spurned by their so called captain and officers while other officers were so cowardly they probably didn't stand a chance. With too many members of the crew screaming from their injuries, Clegg decided to ignore the officers - they were the ones to have gotten them into this mess, they couldn't be relied on - and he grabbed the attention of the others at the gun and two others nearby.

"Forget Abercrombie and the others," he said to them, "load the guns, double shot them and then angle them down at the French ship's waterline. We can't win this fight, not in the way Abercrombie expects us too - he's probably up on deck useless. We have to take the initiative and fight back ourselves. Hopefully he and those other fops pay the price as well."

It took five minutes to load up the guns, even with the bos'n and his mates urging them on to fight, but truthfully they were out of their depths and they couldn't really do anything. Clegg angled his gun down and went to the other two to do the same thing. "We'll have to fire the guns at the same time," he told them, "we'll fire them at the same time. But we'll only get one shot at this. Understood?"

The men nodded.

"Right. Let's get going," Clegg said to them even as he slowed time down - a time trick wasn't something to joke about and he wouldn't really use one here but things were desperate, it needed a lot of concentration and it wasn't legal, but if he could trick these humans with it by making it look like he'd moved really fast….. He lit the fuses of each gun and they exploded, shooting out their balls against the other ship's hull. The French ship seemed to have jumped up in the air with the triple blast, and the shock seemed to give the English crew the courage to continue firing. They needn't have bothered really, not since the ship was beginning to sink.

"Cease fire!" Simpson shouted, and even from belowdecks the arrogant officer sounded surprised and relieved.

The French ship was evacuating, boarding their boats and getting as far as possible. When Abercrombie shouted for all the crew to be lined up on deck, they knew that the pompous sadist wasn't going to congratulate them. By the look of the number of dead bodies, quite a few of the marines and the officers had been killed in the fighting, so with them gone taking the ship wouldn't be too difficult, and quite a few of the marines themselves were tired of Abercrombie and wanted him gone as much as the crew themselves did before things got even worse. But everyone wondered what was going to happen next, and for those in the group that were preparing to stage the mutiny against Abercrombie, there was a sense of anticipation in the air. They knew that what happened here would definitely shape their desired plans.

As Clegg joined the rest of the men, he glanced over the rail at the French ship, or rather what remained of it. The French were in the boats and rowing as far as they could, as fast as they could, clearly afraid of the English chasing after them, but Clegg doubted they'd need to worry. Abercrombie was too angry to think about the French. Besides the ship was too badly damaged, but few seemed to care about that.

One of the officers was protesting. "But sir, the wounded-"

"GET THEM UP HERE!" Abercrombie was frothing at the mouth with rage.

"Sir-"

"SHUT UP, I WANT THEM ALL UP HERE. THEY'RE GOING TO PAY!"

It was official, the man had lost his mind.

Exchanging a few glances with the rest of his friends, Theta wondered if they were going to survive this. Abercrombie was so mad that even his closest allies on the ship were looking at him with concern.

Frothing at the mouth with rage, Abercrombie bellowed, "WHICH ONE OF YOU DID IT, WHICH ONE OF YOU DESTROYED THE FRENCH SHIP! I WANTED TO BOARD THAT SHIP, DEMAND THE CAPTAIN'S SURRENDER. WHICH ONE OF YOU?!"

Clegg stepped forwards, ignoring his friends attempts to stop him. "I did," he announced, standing up straight and looking at Abercrombie like the pathetic primate he was.

Abercrombie was silenced, and the wide eyed look on his face was not attractive. Then he whispered, "But-but you were being flogged," he whispered and then his face contorted with rage. "You insubordinate ruffian! How dare you disregard your rightful punishment-!"

"Rightful punishment? We were in the middle of a fight with another ship, a fight we were not even prepared for," Clegg shouted back, surprising everyone including himself with the sudden outpour of anger, "you did nothing. You stood on deck looking lost, unsure of what to do. What's wrong, don't you know how to fight? While you were frozen, I stopped the fight - it doesn't even deserve to be called a battle, we were outmatched because the French were better drilled and prepared. What've you done to prepare us, anyway, Abercrombie, eh? You've done nothing, all you and your thugs have done is flog us until our our backs are torn to shreds!"

"Silence! I'll have you back at the gratings soon enough!" Abercrombie shouted, and he gestured towards two marines to take hold of Clegg, but neither man moved. They just looked at the man that had been the captain of the Raven, and just stood stock still.

Clegg looked closely at one of them. "You've had enough, haven't you?" he asked mildly.

The marine looked at him for a second in surprise, then nodded. Abercrombie looked between them in a confused manner, but the remaining officers looked on with horror as the situation became clear to them.

"What is going on here?" Abercrombie spat.

Clegg picked up a belaying pin. "We're taking the ship," he said simply before turning to the others. They'd begun grabbing weapons while some of the marines cocked their muskets and aimed them at the officers. Abercrombie started shouting abuse at the mutineers, and one of the loyalist officers - not that there were many of them left since the French had seen to that - tried to rally the other men in regaining their loyalty, but it didn't work. The men were tired, extremely tired, with Abercrombie and his ways. They were tired of the weaklings underneath him as well, turning a blind eye to the floggings, the tortures, the bullying, the way Waters and Simpson were allowed to nearly get away with murder. The officers were wasting their time. They just too dense to see it until it was too late.

"You would really turn against your King?" One of them asked aghast.

A few of the men chuckled. Frost stepped forwards. The younger man, well younger in human years, snapped, "The King ain't done anythin' for me," he growled, "for any of us! We've been beaten in his name!"

Simpson and Waters glanced at each other and, being more intelligent than their captain, who was still shouting abuse at the crew, so they tried to run towards the stairwell.

"STOP THEM!" Clegg shouted and two men chased after them, and the Time Lord slammed the belaying pin into the stomach of the captain. Abercrombie wheezed and dropped to the deck, and then Clegg turned to the officers. "Don't even think about it!" he growled at them in case they had any stupid ideas. The officers wisely did as they were told.

It didn't take long for Waters or Simpson to be brought back. By and large it was a very painless and quiet mutiny, for that Clegg was grateful, but truthfully he was annoyed because so many people had been killed because of idiots in command and their lack of judgement towards Abercrombie. Instead of taking the rabid dog into custody and locking him into a straitjacket, where he belonged, and not getting rid of Waters or Simpson. Here, the problem was obvious, they were just as frightened as the crew were when it came to Abercrombie.

True, there were one or two men who didn't like the thought of being mutineers and being tarred with the same brush, but truthfully Clegg didn't see them as much as a problem. They were just naive, they didn't realise that the Navy would see them as guilty no matter what. The Navy had one punishment for mutiny.

Death.

The less they had to do with them, the better, and besides they would be more than happy in the next few years when Clegg had disclosed his idea. For the time being he had other matters to deal with.

He turned to May, Vance, Brown and Daniels. "Check the ship. Come back and let us know about the damage, and give your opinions of whether it will stop us from initiating the next stage of the plan."

"Right," May and the others went off on their task. Clegg watched them leave, hoping that they didn't miss anything out. If they did he would be truly disappointed.

"Plan, what plan?" Simpson gasped.

"That doesn't concern you," Clegg replied before anyone could speak; the less any of the officers knew the better, they could find an advantage and it could mean every one of the mutineers losing their lives. Clegg knew that humans were sometimes incredibly thoughtless and he didn't need it happening now. "What should concern you is whether or not our plans involve you dying for your crimes. Did you honestly think, you pathetic stupid waste of flesh, that we'd let you get away with everything you've done to us?"

Clegg looked down at the man, wondering again what they could do with Simpson and the others. There was no way they would coming with them when they reached port. If they did they would use whatever means was at their disposal to let the authorities know about the mutiny. While he would probably survive what the Navy dished out, though it would mean wasting another regeneration, Clegg had no intention for the others to die - Frost had a family, he deserved to see them again.

But if his idea worked then the family would be set up for life, if his understanding their primitive economy was any indication. Clegg refused to let this bunch of idiots jeopardise their lives, but he didn't know for sure how they'd take his new idea. He'd had it in mind for a long time now, especially since their fortunes were so terrible as they were.

The damage report came in. It wasn't a good report if you were looking to the long term, but since they weren't far from the port and would be exchanging their ship for another, it was meaningless. But still…..

"I nominate John Clegg as Captain," Frost announced loudly. "He was the one to come up with most of the plan for taking the ship, and he lead us."

"That's right," many of the men chanted.

"I'm with ye, Captain," One of the older seaman said, looking around, "I've no family back home, I've got nothin' to lose."

Clegg eyed the man closely, looking deeper into the man's eyes and seeing how serious he was. The man's words were very well chosen and Clegg had the feeling the man had guessed that once Abercrombie and the others were really out of the way there was only one way for them all to go. Piracy. The old seaman had worked it all out, but the others hadn't just yet.

In truth Clegg had known from the outset there was no other way for them to live now. After mutinying against Abercrombie and the rest of his officers, they were practically pirates anyway, the crew may not see themselves as pirates yet, but with the fact the Raven was still a naval ship and was severely damaged during the French attack, losing the ship and getting something different and less recognisable as a navy warship was vital. And there was only one way they could get hold of it.

The old man was right, what did they have to lose now? If the navy caught them, they wouldn't just punish them for stealing the ship away from Abercrombie, they would kill them for stealing another ship.

"All right now, if I'm captain now here are my orders, all hands to repair the ship as much as possible. Just patch as much of the ship up as possible. As for the officers, well force them to do some of the work. I'll decide their fate later, for right now they're to work, keep them under guard. If they try anything suspicious or stupid, kill one of them and simply chuck the body over the side. Frost, Vance, Mackenzie, Wilkinson, Brown, and May - I want you in the captain's cabin. We need to discuss our plans."

"Right, now we're here, I want to know for sure what we're going to do next," Theta said to the men, who he was hoping would become his inner circle. "The way I see it we're vulnerable, we have two problems - the first one is what we're going to do with this ship. I know the plan was to abandon the Raven and simply steal another ship, but the problem is we're going to need to plan ahead. Are we agreed, we abandon the Raven so we can return to England without the navy becoming suspicious?"

"Definitely," Frost said.

Wilkinson narrowed his eyes. "I don't think we've that much choice, Captain," he said, there was slight resentment to the man's voice at the time and Clegg decided to keep an eye on him in case the man tarred him with the same brush everyone had with Abercrombie. "Even if we beached the ship somewhere like Cornwall, the navy'll have every militia ferreting us out."

"Still at least we'd be back home," Frost muttered before looking at Clegg with an apology.

"We'll get back soon enough, but who says we can't go home with a bit more cash than what we didn't have before?" Clegg asked seriously. "Look, we need a new ship." The Time Lord paused as he picked up a chart on the table, studying it for a second; human mapmaking at this point was so primitive because the humans didn't have aircraft or satellites available yet to make their mapmaking processes much more simpler, but he had to admit the time it must have taken was impressive. "According to this chart, we've only got a few more days to reach the port," he said as he laid the map back down on the table and showed them, "we alter the course of the ship, and take it out of sight of the port, send a few men over to find a suitable ship, find some supplies and steal what we can take. Take a look, any ideas?"

Frost leaned over the chart. "What does this have to do with the Raven?"

"Glad you asked. The Raven will be lying in wait when the new ship arrives, then we offload everything on this ship that we think we can use - cannons, sails, wood, the lot," Clegg said. "After we've got everything onboard, we take the Raven as close to the harbour as possible and simply set it alight. If anyone sees the Raven burning, so much the better. They might even think we're all gone. If they do, send word of which ship it was, then it might fool the navy. But when we get back to England we might have to explain to our families, but the navy should leave us alone."

"While we sneak back to England on a different ship?" May whispered as he realised what the plan was.

"Yes, but who says we can't be better than that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we practically pirates now, right? Think of it, we've mutinied against Abercrombie and the others, stolen the Raven, planning to steal another, why not go the whole way? We only do it to a few ships, then we return to England without anyone knowing what we've done," Clegg said. "How does that sound? May?"

May looked down at his hands. "I was thrown out on the streets years ago, I've got nothing. If I'm going to become a pirate, I might as well become a rich one."

Clegg glanced at Frost. The younger man stared back at him, eyes tearing up with emotion. "You all know my wife and I are having a baby - little mites' probably born by now - but I've got little for them. I want to provide for them, give them a better life than what we had before. I'm in."

Clegg turned to the others. "I couldn't find any decent work back home, making me have to do labour work," Brown said, and Mackenzie agreed with him. "As long as you makes sure we can get plenty of loot, we're both in," the other man added.

"And you, George?" Clegg asked Wilkinson.

"I don't think we've got much choice, 'sides, I never liked the thought 'f a king in the first place," the wiry man grumbled, "he's like that bastard Abercrombie. If we become pirates then lets do it, I don't want to be pushed around by a king or a navy captain. But I don't want you to push me around."

Clegg chuckled. "I'll do my best, but overall what do you think of the plan?"

For the next couple of hours, Clegg and the others went over the plan, and for the first time in a long time Frost and the others now had the opportunity to talk and debate about something important - the problem with the officers of the navy was while they learnt from experience, they didn't take into account that there might be others who were twice as smart, and being able to contribute more to the planning stage.

* * *

Next chapter...the new ship.


	4. Chapter 4 The New Ship of Captain Clegg

Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who.

I'm back with a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated.

The New Ship of Captain Clegg.

As Theta Sigma, known to his new crew as Captain Clegg surveyed the coast only 4 miles from the port town, he had to admit that his plans were going well. Getting the Raven to the coast without being seen had been difficult at first and had required surprising his new crew with his knowledge of navigation, but star navigation was so easy the Time Lord was surprised the humans had such a limited knowledge of it.

Clegg and his crew had been waiting for some time for the landing party led by Frost and one of the elder seamen who had joined the new pirate group to return to their quiet little pocket of the coast with news of how large the port was, what kind of ships there were available, and which one they should take to begin their new pirate career. Clegg was looking forwards to finding out which ship was suitable, but it was a pity he and his crew had to make do with something as slow as wind power for piracy; if he had the right resources and materials, not to mention time, he and the crew could build a submarine of some sort, but there was no way he could do that without real facilities, and besides how would he explain to his crew what he had in mind?

A submarine vessel with torpedoes and powered by a clean fusion Omega drive would definitely make the piracy career for himself and his crew flourish - all he and his men would need to do was follow ships unseen and then sink them, dive down and recover the loot and cargo on the seafloor unless it was perishable. If he had access to the TARDIS he could certainly make it happen more quickly, and then he and his crew could remain pirates for a long time without anyone being able to stop him. But he couldn't do it, he didn't have the TARDIS, and even then he would need to return to England to recover the ship and keep it nearby in case he needed to escape. But he could finalise his plans soon once he was sure about what he needed to do. In the meantime, this would have to suffice. It was just...ridiculous that he, a Time Lord who was used to advanced science and technology, being forced to rely on primitive ships like the Raven for piracy. Speaking of the Raven, Clegg knew the ship would not last long. It was a miracle the ship had managed to get them here at all.

Standing on the quarterdeck of what remained of the Raven, Clegg had to admire the speed his men had gone just to strip the ship of everything it had barring the ballast. All the still working guns had been removed from the ship, and much of the sails had been taken down along with the rope before being moved to the shore where it would remain in storage for the time being until the new ship was brought to this point along the coast which was fairly remote, and according to the scouting parties sent ashore there were no inhabitants living here. He and his men had the place to themselves.

Clegg, but it wasn't all fun and games.

Abercrombie and the others who had refused to join the crew of pirates had all been killed by having their throats slit from ear to ear. It was a gruesome death by anybody's standard, blood spurting out of their wounds, but it had to be done. Not only were Abercrombie and Waters dangerous to keep around longer than they should, but they were a waste of resources and they were also a security risk. Who was to say someone couldn't slip up and accidentally leave the cage unlocked? It was easier and simpler to just have them killed as soon as possible. But as a Time Lord, a being who came from a race many millions of years older and more sophisticated in culture and civilisation than the humans, despite his desire to be a pirate, Clegg felt a little disgusted with the way it went even if it solved some of his more immediate problems. Abercrombie and the others had been killed fairly quickly once Clegg had worked out in his mind how big a problem, it would be to keep them alive and under his brief protection. He had more than enough on his mind as it was. This raid had to succeed. He and his men needed a new ship, desperately, to replace the Raven and the less distraction he had the better, and if Abercrombie or one of the others not involved in the mutiny escaped, warned someone…..

Clegg glanced at the blood stains still on deck - no one had bothered to wash them down since there was no point - and looked ashore as some of the boats ashore were being offloaded with the latest pieces taken from the Raven, and saw men bringing pieces of wood and plants to the boat to be used as fuel for the fire that was going to be used during the night raid. He glanced upwards towards the crows nest and made a decision. After climbing up the rigging like a spider after months of practice, Clegg found himself in the crows nest. The man who was in the crows nest was one of the older seamen, and he looked like he was dozing already.

"Busy?" he asked dryly.

Merry jumped. "Captain! I was-"

"About to sleep. Don't do it again, not unless you want the navy on our case," Clegg said even as he wondered just how to handle this situation; he could have been as brutal as any other pirate, but he had no intention of being so brutal with his crew, though he would have to see about making their punishments more psychological than Abercrombie's brutality. "Have you been keeping an eye out?"

Merry was still clearly embarrassed by being caught dozing. "Aye, sir," he said, "no sail."

Clegg knew he was telling the truth, but he looked out of the horizon to be on the safe side. "No sign of Frosts' boat?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, sir," Merry replied. "It's very quiet apart from our boats."

Clegg nodded. "I know, but keep watch anyway. I'll send someone up here to relieve you, give you time to either rest or join the rest of the salvage crew."

"Thank you, sir," Merry replied, trying to hide his relief since he had been up in the nest for the last few hours and the lack of anything to do besides watching the horizon was tedious, even for a man of his experience.

Clegg nodded and went back down to the quarterdeck to arrange the change of lookout. He had a bit of flak at first, but when Merry came down after someone volunteered to do their duty the old seaman went to work with the salvage.

By the time Frost and the scout crew returned, three hours had passed and most of the salvage had been finished. The young seaman came onto the ship, stared at the empty places where the guns had once stood proudly and quickly hurried over to Clegg.

"What did you find?" Clegg asked when they'd moved to the camp.

Frost unrolled a piece of paper on top of a barrel. Clegg's eyes scanned it thoughtfully, it wasn't a very good drawing, but it didn't need to be. When he had sent Frost and the others to the port town, he had asked them to write a simple but accurate drawing of the port as they gathered information of the town, learnt where the barracks for soldiers were, the strength of the defences and how many ships were in the port, what type they were, and which ones were less heavily guarded.

Clegg studied the map while others came and stood around their captain to wait for his decisions. But Clegg was more interested in other matters.

"How big is the port?"

"It's quite large," Frost replied, "the larger ships are clustered around here," he said, gesturing with his hand where the larger ships were in the port.

"Hmm, well, we might have to forget stealing one of those ships, with the number of men and marines they have onboard," Clegg muttered for everyone to hear, but they didn't realise he had made a plan for those ships already. "What about frigates?"

Frost pointed, "There are quite a few here. I don't know how many of them are fully crewed."

"It's likely all of 'em are crewed," Miller, one of the older seamen commented - all of the crew were overjoyed about having the chance to finally speak to their captain as equals.

Clegg nodded in agreement as he studied the map. "What about other ships?"

Peel, who was another of the older seamen on the Raven, had gone with Frost and the others to learn more about the ships in port. "We saw schooners, a few sloops and a Brigantine."

"What we want is a ship powerful and strong enough to fight in a battle, but easy to navigate in these waters. Which ship do you recommend we use?" Clegg asked, directing the question towards the older seamen.

"A schooner is light, but a Brigantine is perfect for longer battles," Miller replied. "It's also larger and better manned than a schooner or a sloop."

Clegg nodded thoughtfully, pondering for a moment, and then he asked. "Can we fit any of Raven's old guns to such a ship, or is the ship already armed?"

"It's already armed, but we can fit a few other guns to it."

Clegg absorbed all this information, plans and counter plans forming in his head. "What do we know about the fort and the barracks?"

"We couldn't get into them, but we got one of the soldiers drunk and asked him for details," Peel said.

"There's supposed to be a concealed entrance to the fort that's apparently meant to be a way out in case the fort is attacked or on fire or something," Frost said, "but when we went there to see for ourselves we couldn't find any sign of one."

The more Clegg thought about his plans he realised that the fort was going to be one of the biggest problems he would be facing. The fort would be on the lookout if his plan to get one of the ships out failed, so putting it out of action was vital for his plans. It looked like they would need to find a way to get into the fort as well as the barracks.

"Where are the barracks?" He asked.

Frost pointed to a spot on the map. It was quite easy to reach since it was nestled deep in the town, but maybe they would have to do some work to the town itself to distract and panic the residents while dealing with the fort. A plan was beginning to form in Clegg's mind, but he would need to be very careful about how it worked out in the long run, so much hinged on this plan succeeding.

"What else did this soldier say?" May asked curiously as it was obvious Clegg was thinking.

"Not a lot," Frost admitted. "He was so drunk we barely knew what he was saying."

The meeting went on for another hour with questions and answers passed around, and all that time the ideas in their minds of how they could get their hands on another ship were gathering pace, but their leader was for the most part silent as he considered the plans in his head. But he had ideas in mind for the town, the navy ships in the harbour, and the fort and the barracks, and the ship they needed to take.

Finally Clegg asked something that had been on his mind for a short period. "Are there any new ships in the port?"

"Yeah, there's a few ships, here," Frost pointed on the crude map, "a few brigantines. We also found out they're not fully crewed yet."

"That makes them ideal, then," May commented.

The Time Lord wasn't worried about that too much. "There aren't many naval ships, and I doubt we can fight them all off," he commented thoughtfully before he looked around at the men clustered near him. "I need to be alone to think, continue with the salvage but also load as many pistols and muskets as you can. But don't bother hanging around ready to go out for a fight. I need to think about what we can do."

Once he was alone, the Time Lord rubbed his eyes and thought about what he'd learnt, and while he brooded he realised what he would need to do. He would need to be split the crew up, send them into different groups and make sure they were under disguise so then they could be sure of escape.

* * *

In the morning Clegg went to speak to his men. Everyone was taking advantage of the time and the rare opportunity to step foot on dry land to have some decent food and drink.

"I've thought of a plan," Clegg announced to his crew, "we're going to sneak into the harbour under the cover of darkness. We are not going to split up in groups to take on the fort, the barracks, or the ships. We're just going to sneak onboard one of the ships and we're going to sail it out of the harbour before sailing it back here. Once we've arrived we dispose of the old crew and move everything onboard."

"Have you thought about which ship we're going to take?" May asked.

"No, but I'm going to go to the town today and find out which of the Brigantines are suitable," Clegg replied, "Frost and Peel are coming with me. While the scouting mission was good and brought a lot of information back, I want to check which ship is suitable myself. May, I'm leaving you in command until I get back," Clegg issued his orders. "Keep watch over what's left of the Raven, and if you see or hear anything in the woods or nearby, don't fight it, but try to hide."

"Do you think there will be any trouble?" May asked.

"I don't know," Clegg replied, "but it's best to keep your guard."

As they rowed towards the port town and entered the harbour, Clegg was pleased with the lax security from the fort. It wasn't as big as he'd thought it would be, but it was still a formidable enemy if this went wrong. The cliff the fort was built on had basically been flattened by the stone walls and slate roof of the fort, but Clegg could see the black lines of the guns as they jutted from their gunports. The harbour itself was bustling as the ships rocked in the swell and the waves. There were a few navy ships in the harbour at anchor, a few frigates and the larger Man of Wars. As the boat circled the harbour to take them close to the Brigantines that were apparently under crewed. There weren't many of them, but they only needed the one.

Finally, they came upon one that was really far out of reach of the naval ships and the fort. Clegg studied it closely as they rowed closer, his eyes scanning its lines, the two masts and the sleek shape of its hull. This one was ideal.

"They're not well armed, are they?" Clegg commented as he counted the guns on one of them, and when they passed her by he noticed the name, the Seal.

"Still more than a schooner, or a sloop," Miller replied.

"Yeah. But lets hope we don't need to take on anything bigger, I doubt we could handle it," Clegg said.

Frost was looking around. "We think we'd better move on," he said, "we might be getting attention."

Clegg nodded, and they began rowing again. "How do you fancy the ship we just saw?" he asked the other two.

"I think it's a good choice, it's closer to the entrance of the harbour, easy to reach, and further from the navy ships than the others in anchor," Miller said thoughtfully.

But Frost needed to point out the flaw that Clegg had noticed the moment that he'd seen the ship. "But its on the other side of the harbour, we'd have to row over an open space where anyone can see us."

Clegg began looking around for inspiration, and he smiled as it came to him. "One boat can row towards the ship, the men on that can begin the attack by boarding the ship, dealing with whoever is onboard. As long as none of our number are killed, we can sail the ship and move it out of the harbour and we can join with the other boat."

Miller nodded as he began seeing the plan. "Then we sail the ship back to where the Raven is," he finished.

"Yes. Then we set fire to the Raven, bury or destroy any trace of our presence, but we use that part of the coast to resupply with the basics before we set sail for the open seas," Clegg said. The three pirates stayed in the town for another couple of hours, so they could learn a bit more about the Seal. After leaving his two shipmates behind, Clegg went to a few of the offices where the merchant ships were managed, and he used his Time Lord hypnotic skills to get some information about the Seal from them. When he was finished, he headed back to the boat where Frost and Miller were waiting for him.

"Right, I think I've seen enough. Let's get back. We can finalise the plan along the way."

As they rowed away from the port, Frost said, "You were gone a long time. What were you doing?"

"Checking some things out about the ship, like how many crew members were onboard it," Clegg replied.

Miller shook his head, and spat in the water, "We know the ship is new. There can't be no more than 12 men 'aboard her."

"13, actually," Clegg grinned. "I…. spoke to the managers about a job, and they told me there was around a dozen men on that ship."

Miller scratched his cheek. "That's better than a larger complement, but we can do it."

"It would still have to be done carefully," Frost said, "we can't let them make a single sound."

Clegg grunted as he pulled back on his oar to maintain the pretence that the effort was getting to him, but with his respiratory bypass system he was able to be better regulate how much air he was able to take into his lungs and his control over his hearts allowed him more efficiency when it came to rowing.

By the time Clegg, Frost and Miller had finished making their plans, they were halfway there, so silence had fallen over the boat as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. As they travelled down the coast, Clegg's mind went back over the recent months - it was so hard for him to believe he had appeared to look like someone different to what he looked like now, the regeneration was fully settled, though he'd had months of brutal labour to push the nausea past. He glanced upwards into the sky, wondering for a moment about the Time Lords.

What were they doing back home? He had no doubt that the citadel was just as orderly as ever, with Time Lords going about their everyday lives with the same calm that had been the blanket of their race for centuries. Clegg had no doubt that one day, maybe a few years from now, he'd return to the TARDIS and leave the planet. He had no intention of leaving the time ship by itself for a long period of time, not unless he wanted the TARDIS to die.

Clegg shook himself out of those thoughts since they wouldn't do any good for him in the end. When the party returned to the camp the pirate crew had set up a few days before, and Clegg saw that the camp was still undiscovered by the soldiers, and they spent the next hour telling them the plan and getting suggesting ideas, taking some and discarding some before they got themselves sorted out with food and drink - Clegg made sure none of them drank any alcohol, they would need to be completely sober for this mission, and while there were protests, they obeyed but Clegg knew better than to trust them to listen to him. From what he'd read about pirates back on Gallifrey, he'd learnt that they were a law unto themselves, and one of the best ways of maintaining order was to be harsh with them, but since Abercrombie had driven the crew to mutiny in the first place Clegg didn't want to go the same way.

In the end the crew split into groups - one group would remain with the Raven while the other group would board three different boats and would head out to their new ship. They had spent the best part of the afternoon napping in order to save their energy so they wouldn't make any mistakes, and now they were ready.

Getting back to the harbour was relatively easy - to save their energy, they had simply searched for a decent enough wind, and they hoisted their sails to propel their boats towards the port. Granted, pulling their boats into the wind when they needed it was hard, but it wasn't difficult and apart from a few intervals of rowing their boats, the pirates only needed to eat a bit of fruit to keep their energy going.

In the bow of the first boat, Clegg was monitoring their progress as the pirates went deeper into the harbour - he was worried at first when the boat was quietly rowed into the harbour under the guns of the fort, but by being discreet and a little bit casual the boats carrying the pirates went unnoticed. As the boat neared the Seal and wasn't far from the Brigantine's bow, Clegg turned around to face his men. He could barely see them in this light, even with his Time Lord physiology, but he could hear their voices lightly in the telepathic regions of his mind.

"Swimmers, get ready," he whispered, his voice so low it was amazing it could even be heard, "get out now. We'll wait for a few minutes for you to get closer to the ship before we arrive. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," the men chanted quietly, and they passed under the sail obscuring them from view. Clegg smirked when he heard the sounds of quiet splashing as the men got into the water and started to swim. Clegg waited for a minute before turning his head to speak over his shoulder. "Start rowing," he ordered and the boat pushed off again.

The plan was straightforward enough - the swimmers were composed of men who were among the most experienced members of the Raven's former crew. They had been seamen on ships that had seen more action than the Raven had prior to the French attack, they knew that one foolproof way of boarding a ship was to simply get out of a boat and swim gently towards it. Clegg had taken advantage of that knowledge and expertise to capture this ship. When the boat neared the bow and circled it to pass out of sight of the fort on the hill, Clegg could hear muffled thumps on the deck of the ship and guessed that the advance guard had succeeded in their task. When the boats were tied up to the side of the ship, Clegg quietly ordered the boarding parties to climb up before he grabbed the last rungs of the ladder himself and started hauling himself up, but he ordered a few men to go into the rigging to keep an eye on the ship from a higher level in case one of the men who'd been on the ship saw what was going on and tried calling for help. Clegg had made sure to have a few of his men hiding around the quarterdeck to keep watch in case that happened, and to differentiate from anybody else the pirates would wave their hands for a moment. These men in the rigging would also keep watch on the anchor crew in case one of the men onboard the ship tried to stop them.

The quarterdeck of the Seal was similar but less complex than that of the Raven, and there were fewer guns denoting the ship's status as a merchantman rather than a fully fledged warship. Clegg looked around the deck as his crew finished climbing up and shimmied over the handrail.

"Go below and kill whoever you find," Clegg ordered, "cover their mouths and noses to cut out any noise, we can't afford anyone on one of those other ships becoming suspicious. The rest of you, heave up the anchor and prepare to set sail, but do it quietly."

Not bothering to see his crew work on the deck, and after blowing out the ship's lights, Clegg descended quietly into the bowels of the ship and quickly came across two men lying asleep in their hammocks. Looking around to make sure he was alone, he closed his eyes and focused on the flow of time in the immediate vicinity. Once he was sure that he'd succeeded, Clegg stabbed the two men, one at a time and clamped his hand over their mouths to stop them shouting out.

Swallowing his regret though he knew it was necessary for the plan to succeed, the Time Lord left the room and walked around the ship quietly, occasionally meeting some of his crew who had bloodstained cutlasses and knives in their hands. Overall, it wasn't a very long takeover, it only took the pirates about half an hour to make sure they had everyone. In total there were just 13 men on the Seal, and they were so lax and complacent dealing with them was easy.

Clegg reached the quarterdeck and after waving his hand he walked to the anchor crew. May saw him approach. "We're almost finished," the other man hissed. "We just need a few more minutes, how did it go below decks?"

"Well enough," Clegg replied, looking around the port. It was so dark that the sky was so black that the darkness was as thick as a blanket where the Seal was lying. Clegg could see the other ships deeper in the harbour lit up like Plymouth had been when he was first pressed into service. "We're lucky that the Seal's not deeper into the port. Get a few men into the rigging, it's time to set sail and leave. But make sure the crews do it quietly."

May nodded. Clegg watched as his lieutenant passed on the order and had a few men climb up to the masts before he walked to the stern and leaned over the handrail to watch the rest of the port. He and his men needed the anonymity for this to work, and if someone on one of the ships saw what was going on then they'd be in range of the fort's guns.

It took the crew no more than ten minutes for the sails to be set, but Clegg never left the stern so he could see what was going on. He was satisfied that the theft of the Seal was going according to plan, but it wouldn't take much for something to go wrong. With that in mind he called for Frost. When the young sailor appeared by his side, Clegg didn't take his eyes off the ships lying at anchor in the port.

"Make sure everyone's alert," he whispered to the young man, "everything's gone according to plan so far, but anything could go wrong now at this stage."

Even in the darkness he could tell Frost was frowning. "You think one of the old crew's still alive?"

"I don't know, but make sure everyone keeps an eye out," Clegg said, "go up into the rigging, and tell everyone up there to keep watch on the deck to see if there's anyone doing anything suspicious. We can't afford to lose. If we lose this ship, then we're done for. We can't just swim to one of those bigger ships in the port, we'd be vulnerable to their guns, and we'd never get out. Plus, we would never see England again without a proper ship."

It was manipulative of him to say that, but Clegg knew how much the young human sailor wanted to return home to his wife and unborn child. But it was motivation enough for the man to head up into the rigging and pass on Clegg's message. As soon as it was reported that the ship was ready for sea, Clegg left his position at the stern though he ordered another man keep watch on the port harbour. Clegg took the wheel and gently steered the Seal out of the harbour. It wasn't difficult to guide the ship out of the harbour since the ship was close to the mouth anyway, so all the pirates had to do was to silently sail the ship out.

Instead of sailing the ship out towards the horizon, Clegg and his pirates circled the mouth of the port and then hugged the coast underneath the fort. Since the lights on the ship had been blown out, the fort wouldn't see them sail quietly out of the port and down the coast, but it wasn't until they were a mile away that Clegg relit the lights.

As the Seal sailed further down the coast with the boats being dragged behind on their lines, Clegg felt he could breathe again. The hijack had succeeded, and by morning he and crew should have finished the work on getting the Seal outfitted. When the ship finally neared the place the Raven was, Clegg was a little bit afraid that the crew would find everyone there dead. But fortunately the beach was full of cheering men.

They knew that the capture of the Seal was a success. After dropping the anchor, Clegg and the rest of the pirates on the Seal clambered into their boats and rowed towards the shore. As soon as Clegg heaved himself out of the boat and jumped onto the beach, ignoring the water washing over his feet, the pirates cheered harder. Privately he wondered if they would be so cheerful if he bungled up a plan, but he would worry about it at some other point.

"Start loading the salvage on the ship, I want us ready to leave by dawn," he ordered. "By morning the port will know we've stolen that ship," he pointed to the Brigantine lying innocently near the larger Raven, "and I don't want to be here when they do."

* * *

1\. The Omega Drive is a piece of propulsion technology that found its way in the novel World Game where the Second Doctor who had just been tried by the Time Lords and was given a mission by the CIA to investigate the Players meddling in the Napoleonic Wars. The Omega Drive was used to power Robert Fulton's Nautilus, a primitive hand cranked submarine Napoleon was investing in in hopes of using it against the Royal Navy. The Doctor destroyed the drive, which was supplied to the Player known as the Countess by a sympathetic Time Lord.

2\. How many of you noticed the old seaman and pirate by the name of Merry? The name comes from a character in Treasure Island who constantly questioned Long John Silver during the search for the treasure Ben Gunn had already dug up.


	5. Chapter 5 The First Victims

I hope you enjoy this latest chapter of The Buccaneer.

The First Victims of Captain Clegg.

As luck would have it the first ships to stray across Captain Clegg's path were two brigs. The crew of the Seal (Clegg was wondering if he should decide on a new name for the ship, but decided it didn't matter) were too busy trying to refit their new ship on the sea. They had been working for days to install the Raven's old guns onto the ship to give it extra firepower, and they'd also been rebuilding the powder magazine to store extra supplies. Clegg had been inspecting the work and adding his own help here and there to show the crew he wasn't going to stand back and do little when everyone was working when the watch up in the crow's nest alerted the crew as to the presence of the other ships.

At first Clegg hadn't intended to attack them, but they needed to start their careers as true pirates soon enough, and it would definitely help boost morale after what had happened with Abercrombie. The morale on the ship was at an all time high with the death of the captain and officers who had helped the captain in his sadistic tendencies and also finish off the ones who would have done nothing to help and then the capture of the Seal, and a successful raid would certainly boost it even more. But as he squinted over the rail at the two ships Clegg had to wonder if his crew were ready for this.

Clegg peered at them through the telescope, noting their sizes and their gun complements before seeing how both brigs waterlines were submerged. Hmm, the Time Lord pondered, they must be carrying some heavy cargos. It looked like there would be a fair haul, and one look at their flags showed their nationalities as French. It didn't matter to Clegg or the rest of the pirates in the Caribbean sea whom the ships belonged to in the long run, all that mattered was their ships and their cargoes. But as he looked through the telescope at the ships as he judged them, Clegg considered for a second, knowing the French and the British were enemies, but would any British port allow pirates to bring them into harbour or would they simply not care? He needed to find a safe harbour that he could use to sell the proceeds of his piracy and his raids, but that would be something to consider for another time.

He spoke to Frost and May. "Run the French flag up," he ordered, "but keep the Roger ready. Load the guns with shot, but keep the gun crews out of sight. Pass pistols and muskets and cutlasses around the crew."

When both men rushed off to fulfil the orders, Clegg turned to the helm, "What are you waiting for? Steer a course for the brigs!"

The helmsman quickly spun the wheel. "Aye, aye, sir."

Clegg peered through the telescope again, once more cursing human technology for being so primitive in this century since he couldn't see exactly what the crews on the two brigs were doing. It was obvious the crews on both ships had noticed the presence of the brigantine closing in slowly towards them, but from where Clegg was standing he couldn't see the clear signs of a ship being cleared for action. When he went up to the crows nest to be sure, he was annoyed that even at the higher height he had reached there was no clear signs of either ship being suspicious of the Seal.

From the crow's nest he could also look down on the deck of his own ship. A few of the crew had used their common sense and were busy working on the deck to give the appearance of diligently working on their ship and not giveaway any suspicious warning signs to be picked up upon while their shipmates worked quickly to load the guns.

It took 10 minutes for the Seal to quickly catch the French ships up, and by that time the guns were fully loaded and ready for firing. Clegg came down from the mast. The crew of the Seal were close enough to the French brigs to hear them call out, and Clegg could understand them perfectly though he had no intention of letting his crew know that and he waited until his ship was close enough before he ordered the sailor standing by the Jolly Roger.

"Take that French flag down, and send ours up," he ordered before turning to Frost and May, "Fire a warning shot at both ships, but don't damage their hulls. Aim for their masts. Prepare to run up signal flags."

The French ships were completely taken by surprise by the sudden attack that suddenly smashed their masts into kindling. When the two brigs had spotted the approaching brigantine flying the flag of their nation, they had prepared for a meeting at sea where they would exchange news and any other goods. The French ships had a long voyage ahead, and they needed all the supplies they could get.

As soon as the black pirate flag was run up and the cannon balls were fired at their masts, smashing them to pieces, the French sailors were so taken by surprise they had no idea what to do, but by then it was too late. The pirate ship sent up a simple message - Surrender and you will not be harmed.

The captains of the French brigs were both experienced men and they were not stupid - they had both had too many encounters with pirates over the course of their careers, and while they knew many pirates were savage animals, but they also knew that many pirate crews preferred not to fight unless they had no other alternative. One of the French captains decided to try his luck and ordered his flag to be lowered in surrender, but the other captain was more reluctant. While the captain of the second French ship was an experienced seaman, he didn't want to let go of his ship to these pirates, but he knew he didn't have a choice. The pirate ship was more heavily armed than his own and a stand up fight between them would definitely see his men being killed.

Clegg had just issued an order for one of the boats to be lowered into the sea so he could personally travel to the ships and negotiate with their captains when a sudden boom from a cannon caught his attention, and he looked in the direction the sound came from and saw the ball hit the surface of the water.

"Target the rails on that ship, and open fire," he ordered coldly, "aim above the waterline. Their cargos are precious. Make the second ship doesn't try to escape."

Why did humans have to be so stubborn and irrational, he asked himself in irritation as he watched his own gun crews aim their cannons and fired at the remaining French ship. From the distance the Seal was everyone could see the damage the ship was taking. One of the rails had been blasted to pieces and it was dis-masted, and from what he'd gathered a brig wasn't exactly well armed next to a frigate, or a brigantine, surely they weren't suicidal?

"They're surrendering, sir," one of the crew shouted at him.

"What?" Clegg barked before he took a closer look, and realised the sailor was right. The French brig was lowering her flag. "Cease firing!" Clegg's voice rang out over the deck, and the other pirate officers he'd selected from the Raven's crew repeated his order so he didn't need to repeat himself.

Clegg was annoyed as the boat took him to the French ship that had surrendered first - he sent another boat to the second ship and told the party led by Frost and May to bring the captain with them. As he paced up and down the quarterdeck waiting for the boat to arrive, he ignored the French captain, who demanded to speak to Clegg's captain, completely unaware that he was speaking to THE captain. Clegg ignored him as he tried to work out what he should do with the captain of the second French ship - he understood desperation, the need to survive. It was programmed into the DNA of every being in the cosmos, and it was also a mental thing as well.

He didn't know if the captain of the second French brig had been the one to open fire or not, or if some of the crew were responsible. But he knew one thing - he would need to punish them. It went against the civilised veneer of a Time Lord, but he knew he would need to if he wished to remain in command of the Seal and the crew and regain access to the TARDIS. If he made one wrong move, the Seal crew could turn on him and he didn't need that, and he had his own ideas of how they should excel and without him to keep them under control they might just be caught by one of the naval ships in the Caribbean.

He spared the French crew some of his attention for the moment. The captain was easily identifiable in his blue jacket and tricorn hat - his clothes were not high quality like Abercrombie's had been, but they still picked him out of the crowd. The French captain spoke again, his language incomprehensible to the English pirates, but for the Time Lord it was easy for him to translate.

"Where is your captain, I must speak to him? Who are you anyway?"

Clegg massaged his temples. The French captain was beginning to get on his nerves, constantly making demands to speak to the pirate captain and it was giving him a headache. Finally, one of his crew approached. "Mr Frost's boat is comin' alongside, sir," he said.

"At last," Clegg said.

May climbed up the ladder first, followed closely by the second French captain who rightfully looked apprehensive at the sight of the pirates on the quarterdeck holding his fellow countrymen at gun and sword point. He walked over to his brother captain and they spoke in rapid French. Clegg was able to follow their conversation fluently, though it did make him roll his eyes.

"What happened, why did you open fire?"

"I didn't, one of my more greener officers did it."

Clegg believed him, he could read it in the other man's eyes telepathically.

"The fool had three other men fire one of the swivel guns at the pirate ship. Several of my crew are now dead because of them."

"Maybe if you kept a good eye on what your men are doing, captain, then perhaps those deaths could have been avoided," Clegg interrupted the conversation and stepped forwards, surprising everyone in his crew and in the French hands on the deck with his interruption and understanding of the French language. "I am Captain Clegg. Good day," he finished ironically.

"You're the captain?" The newly arrived second French Captain asked in disbelief, looking at Clegg's appearance with distaste. Knowing he needed to make a statement, Clegg punched him hard in the face. He might not like violence, but he understood he needed to make his point, and besides with this kind of warning the other Frenchmen should know better than to push his temper to the limits.

He looked at the man whom he'd just punched who was clutching his bleeding nose and mouth, but since the other man had his face covered Clegg couldn't tell how bad the damage was and just ignored him and turned his attention to the second man, who had his hands raised as if to block an impending punch.

"Do you speak English?" Clegg asked. He hoped the answer was a solid and direct yes, because it would reassure his crew. Clegg didn't really mind what language he spoke, but he didn't want to alienate his crew and make things worse for himself in the long run, and besides he knew how almost xenophobic some of the crew could be. He could bluff by saying he knew enough French to get by, but if he came across ships crewed by other nations and spoke their language as flawlessly as they did, it could lead to problems.

"Yes," the second captain choked out in English.

Clegg nodded, inwardly disgusted by the man's cowardice. "Very well, but I want you to take this on board," he replied and stepped closer to the man to invade his personal space, "if you lie to me, and I will know, I will make you watch as each and every one of your crew are put to death. Slowly. Do not try my patience. I want a nice career as a pirate. Do you understand? Look at your fellow captain, that's only the start. Now, what are you carrying, and where are you bound for?"

The fear wafting off the captain was thick. He opened and closed his mouth, but his fear made it virtually impossible for the Time Lord to decipher. Clegg sighed mentally as he realised he had terrified the man to the point where he could barely function rationally. "I don't want to hurt you," he said soothingly, using his psychic empathy field to subtly calm him down. "I just want answers, but I needed to make it clear to you that I am a pirate, and am willing to cause harm if pushed. Now, tell me, please, what are you carrying?"

It took a few moments before the psychic empathy field did its job, but Clegg needed to be subtle so then no one else answered his questions since it would look suspicious, but it worked. The French brigs were carrying a mixed cargo of spices, hides, and sugar loaves. They were bound for Marseilles in the Mediterranean. Clegg had gone over the charts he had removed from Abercrombie's cabin and found in the Seal's cabin, so he knew roughly where it was, and he knew if he wanted to it wouldn't be a problem for his Time Lord mind to plot an accurate course. The only problem he had was the primitive nature of the human's current navigation methods, but he could see the stars to make the course as accurate as possible.

Clegg listened as the second captain, not even hiding his contempt for his colleague's cowardly manner, reluctantly said his own cargo carried much the same as the other ship, but they had molasses and hardwoods instead of just sugar and spices. After enduring the captain's aggressive manner for ten minutes, Clegg finally had enough.

"You and your men will help remove the cargos of your ships and load them into my ship," he said, "you will do so quickly. I will have some of my men overseeing the operation to make sure none of you try to hide any of the goods and stop any of you from interfering. If you do four of you will be shot - the man or men who interfered, and two others at random. It will impede progress, but you will have to work faster."

"You cannot do this!"

Clegg ignored the more aggressive captain and turned to Frost, who instantly approached and looked to him for his next orders. "Take this idiot," Clegg gestured carelessly towards the more aggressive captain, "and a team back to his ship, get the ship ready for unloading but if his crew give you any trouble then shoot a couple. I'll be signalling the Seal and order crews to come to both ships, speed up the unloading process."

"Aye, sir," Frost replied confidently before he hesitated in asking the next question, "how long do you think you'll be?'

"I don't know, but I plan on getting crews to both ships soon," Clegg assured the young man.

* * *

In his cabin, Captain Clegg was looking out of the windows at the view of the sea. To his left, he could see both French ships with boats moving from them to the Seal and then back again, laden with precious cargoes worth a fortune. As he stood in the cabin, his mind churning with possibilities he wondered how he should best sell them. Just after the Raven had been captured and Abercrombie had been imprisoned before his unlamented death, Clegg had spoken to a few of the more experienced seamen who knew things the younger generation wouldn't until much later.

Pirates tended to sell the wares they captured from their victims and sold them to merchants who'd pass them on and sell them, but since the seamen didn't know any of these people who'd smuggle them out Clegg was caught because he knew there was only one sane solution. He would have to investigate personally, use his powers of hypnotism to sound them out and find out which ones he could rely upon, but the older seamen had told him and others like May and Frost that there were corrupt officials in various towns and settlements dotted around the Caribbean who could be relied upon to make things easier. Nassau was one such place where the Seal could go, but there were other places where Clegg could take the ship.

He would need to use his natural hypnotism powers to sound out who could be trusted, and that could take time. Clegg rubbed his head as he considered how strong his hypnotism was. Like all Time Lords, he was capable of hypnotism, and the basics were taught at the Academy back on Gallifrey, but he had only used his psychic field today and while it was quite strong in its own right he wasn't sure if it was the right tool for the job at hand in this new incarnation.

When he had regenerated, he hadn't really thought about the need to hypnotise anybody, so he had no idea how strong his abilities were. He could hypnotise one of the French sailors again to find out, but he didn't want to leave the ship again unless he had no choice. Thinking of the French made him scowl lightly; even after being punched in the face, forced to watch as his fellow captain and countrymen were threatened and forced to help unload his own ship's hold, the second captain who had been defiant had caused a few problems before Frost shot him after losing patience. The little bit of violence was unfortunate, but in Clegg's mind it was better for the man to accept the fact there was nothing he could do.

Anyway, back to his original problem in his mind, he reached under his shirt and pulled out a rough piece of string with a seashell attached to it. Inside the shell, attached to another piece of string, was the TARDIS key he had managed to save.

He knew the TARDIS was still on Earth, but he had no idea why, but he knew that if he didn't recover it soon it could soon be removed from the planet by the Time Lords. But no, the TARDIS was still here on Earth, and he knew he would need to recover it quickly. He was tempted to simply raid a few more ships, grab their cargos and force them into the hold of his ship, and travel all the way to London, find a few merchants there, hypnotise them to selling the produce, and getting the TARDIS from there, but the only problem with that was he didn't want to scare the crew into mutiny. They'd mutinied once before, and Clegg really did not want to see them do it again, with him on the other side and being unable to really trust anyone.

Clegg stared at the key for a while. He still found it so hard to believe that he had regenerated after Annar's brutal death, pressed into service because he was still suffering from post regeneration symptoms of grogginess, forced to live the life of a slave with other men before encouraging them into committing a mutiny against Abercrombie, stealing the Seal as their first act of piracy and end up committing to the life in full. Putting the key back under his shirt, Clegg left the cabin and leaned against one of the masts as he oversaw the operation that was taking place on deck. Bags and barrels were being unloaded down into the hold where it was all being arranged, someone had the sense of rigging up some tackles and bringing the cargo on board that way to save manpower and time. Clegg reached into the small leather pouch he'd gotten when he'd been at the last port where he'd stolen the Seal and pulled out his fob watch to check the time. The Gallifreyan fob watch had once been a present from Drax, and Clegg had kept it on him ever since.

The mini atomic clock built into the clock was accurate down to a nanosecond, and while Clegg didn't really need it, he liked seeing the hands tick their way across the face while he felt time itself. He pocketed the watch and looked up as Merry approached. "We're almost finished, Captain," he reported, "our crews on both ships signal the holds are nearly empty."

Clegg nodded absently as he watched. He could see even from this distance the boats returning to the Seal weren't as fully ladened as the previous trips he'd witnessed before retreating to the cabin. "How much space do we have in the hold? I was hoping to have a second raid," he asked.

Merry shrugged. "We've filled the hold enough as it is, sir. There could be some extra space, but we'd need to be sure."

"We'll have plenty of time to sort that out later. In the meantime, I want you to get the gun crews to get the starboard guns ready," Clegg said.

"Sir?"

"We're going to send a message to everyone in these waters, Mr Merry. I want our crew and this ship to be feared throughout the Caribbean. We're going to destroy one of the brigs before we leave, but we're going to give them enough time to get to the other ship before we leave. Get the gun crews to the starboard side, and make sure that their guns are aiming at the waterline of the brig."

"Aye, sir," Merry went off to carry out the order.

Clegg watched him go, noting that he was a little bit torn about the order and his sudden decision, but if he was reading piracy the right way, many of the victims expected they would be killed regardless of whether they surrendered or not, and besides sending out messages like this would go a long way to building a reputation for himself and his crew. The jolly roger was a symbol, but truthfully a symbol didn't reassure Clegg all that well. But by destroying one of the brigs, it would be a good beginner with his future plans.

It took another half an hour to load the cargos on both of the ships into the Seal. In the hold the loading crews were carefully stacking the cargos stolen from the French into the cramped space. Merry had passed on Clegg's wishes that there should be enough space in case of another raid on another ship, but the space was at a premium. It didn't take long for Clegg's other wish to attack one of the French ships to send out a message to the entire Caribbean to be passed through the rest of the crew. None of the crew knew what to think, but as the Seal moved through the sea, her bow lifting up and crashing back down into the water and sending up plumes of spray, he spoke to the crew.

"The French may have surrendered to us, but that doesn't mean we are completely free. We are pirates. Out there, other crews on other ships, under different captains, are known and feared. The reason they're feared is because they have made themselves feared by all. They are our true rivals. They are the competition. We have to survive if we want to become rich," Clegg said to the crew, "I don't particularly want to sink or damage any ship that's surrendered either, but if there is one thing I've learnt over the last few months is that if we don't appear strong we'll be pushed down. We mutinied against Abercrombie and his officers because they abused us, using their laws as an excuse. Out here, we have to fend off other pirates. Do you want us to be killed by those pirates because they believe we are fair game?"

Many of the crew glanced at each other, but he knew he had made his point. Clegg knew they were startled with his forceful decision and his insight, but some of them did look visibly disturbed by the prospect of attacking one of those brigs, but they didn't try to fight his decision. Clegg had hoped his time as captain of this bunch of pirates would be peaceful, but he wasn't sure if they would be peaceful to him in the long run.

* * *

The Seal sailed a fair distance away from the French brigs to give the battered and exhausted crews the belief they were leaving, but before the French had a chance to lick their wounds they became panicked when the lookouts shouted that the pirates were coming back. Panic turned to horror as the pirate's brigantine opened fire on one of their ships, completely destroying the masts and the bowsprit, and putting a hole in the lower hull before the pirate ship finally sailed away, leaving the second brig to pick up the survivors.

The problem with suddenly finding contacts in this century was that everything had to be done by word of mouth, Clegg mused to himself in disgust as he walked around Nassau, leaving behind someone who must've been the thirteenth person he'd met to try to find merchants willing to smuggle goods stolen by pirates to other ports where they could be sold legitimately. He had found a few already - that was beauty about this place. Nassau was a pirate haven, it was full of people who were willing to help for a profit, but using them had dozens of risks. The biggest concern Clegg had was that he and his crew would be cheated, which was one of the reasons he was in a bad mood because he had encountered more than six contacts who could have been good if they hadn't been greedy as well and would have gleefully given Clegg and his pirates a small amount of cash in return.

He needed to find good contacts, people whom he could trust. If there was one thing he was not in his current incarnation it was a cynic, something that had been enhanced by being pressed into service onboard the Raven, trained to be a seaman and forced to mutiny against a sadist before becoming a pirate full time.

For the next three hours of grilling other contacts, Clegg found three at least who would be perfect for his purposes. The Seal crew offloaded the cargos they'd taken from the French ships and would smuggle them into other ports, but even after the cargos were removed and even though he was assured these three contacts he'd encountered and hypnotised into telling him in a straight manner whether they were going to con him and his crew. It took some time before the Seal crew received their pay, but by that time Clegg was concerned and worried about the amount they all had.

It was just too little in amount.

That terrified the Time Lord, who wanted his crew to be successful, but he wondered at the same time whether or not he was expecting too much. He had studied the life of The Corsair, a Time Lord who was often a pirate, but while Clegg had met the man back home on Gallifrey when he was 12 years old, he hadn't really found out how the other Time Lord did his work. He didn't know if The Corsair had bothered to find contacts that he would know would be risky to trust in the long run, but he also didn't know if the other Time Lord had just worked on his own as a pirate himself and sold the merchandise by himself without trusting anyone.

But Clegg wasn't The Corsair. He was his own person, and everything in him was wondering if he was putting all his time into one direction of piracy. But he knew he needed contacts in order to succeed with his career. One good thing that did come out of the wait was giving his crew their pay since it proved to them piracy did pay and was worth it.

While the Seal was in Nassau and the crew was partaking in whatever was available on the island, Clegg realised something. He had been watching the shipping coming into the harbour and he realised that each of those ships followed a schedule of some sort. The ships may have been slow with them just relying on wind power for propulsion, their communications may have been non-existent, and their navigation methods were so crude a Gallifreyan child of 6 could do better than a fully trained human of 40, but like all worlds that had only just taken its first steps they were governed by bureaucracy, and that meant schedules.

Watching the ships from the dock, Clegg threw back his head and gulped a large amount of rum as the idea took root in his head….

* * *

For the next 6 months, the ship of Captain Clegg became known and feared by virtually every single merchantman operating in the Caribbean waters. Led by their captain, the pirates conducted raids and attacks on various ships in various towns and settlements throughout the Spanish Main, but because it took time - sometimes weeks, maybe even months for news to reach other settlements and towns, no-one really knew how Clegg was able to locate and attack so many ships so easily, and many superstitious sailors who had been at sea for decades began whispering to their friends or to gullible young idiots Clegg had dabbled in witchcraft, and had begun using magic to help him and his crew find ships.

The truth was more mundane than that.

Clegg had found it easy to attack the ships because he knew they were leaving the ports since he had broken into the offices of the various companies operating in the Caribbean. It was so simple - the Time Lord would arrive secretly always in a rowboat by himself and he would scout the town, taking a note of all the people and the ships in the harbour and then he would hypnotise clerks in the various offices to help him find the most ideal targets and when they were scheduled to depart. Clegg knew he could have done it all by himself easily, but he didn't have endless patience, especially with bureaucracy and besides the amount of paper he came across in each office would have taken hours and hours to pour through, so he had decided to let clerks who worked in those offices do it for him when they were under hypnosis.

On the quarterdeck of the Seal, Clegg stood watching as their latest victim brought down their flag very quickly in a clear desire to surrender. Giving the order to the man at the wheel to move the Seal gently within grappling range, he also ordered the rest of the crew to keep the guns ready in case of treachery - he'd already encountered more than his fair share of captains who were more cunning than they looked, and he was in no mood for that now.

"Ready the boarding party," Clegg was saying, "Mr May, you and Merry will find out what that ship is carrying."

When the ship was close, grappling hooks were thrown to drag the other ship closer to the Seal, and the pirates led by their captain boarded the ship. With his pistol drawn and at half cock, Clegg studied the other crew. The air of tension was so thick he didn't need to use his telepathy to see they were terrified of him and his crew, and rightfully so.

"Who is the captain on his ship?" He asked with his usual authority.

Parting from the crowd and stepping forwards, the captain of the brig walked towards the pirate captain. "You are Captain Clegg?" he asked.

Clegg narrowed his eyes, surprised by the question and curious about why the man would ask something like that. Didn't he have more important things to worry his little brain about? "Yes, I am."

The man's eyes flashed, and he pulled his shoulders back with a sigh of resignation. He pulled out his cutlass and held it out for Clegg to take. Clegg took it, carelessly holding it out for one of his crew standing behind him. He gestured lazily for his men to board the brig, but his attention was still focused on the captain in front of him, more than a bit warily. When he had seen the man reach for the sword, he had half imagined he was preparing a suicide charge that would have seen him quickly killed, but the man had quickly seen it was pointless.

"I am Captain Clegg," he said loudly as he addressed not only the captain, but his crew as well, "my crew and I want your cargo only. You have surrendered, so don't waste your time trying to fight us off. If you get in our way, you will be killed."

It took the pirates only 45 minutes and 67 seconds precisely for them to remove the cargo, which was just a large consignment of sugars and spices, so when the pirate ship left the brig, all were relieved it was over. Clegg went back to his cabin and poured over the charts, making a few speedy calculations in his head before he went back to the wheel and gave the man his new course.

When night had fallen and May's watch were on duty, no one was truly surprised to see Clegg on deck either. The captain barely noticed them though they knew he knew they were there. Clegg spoke a few quiet words with the new helmsman and with May before he went off to stand on the poop deck alone for a few minutes before he picked up the leather bound book and the roll of patterned paper the seamen recognised as a chart, and he went up into the rigging where he would climb to the highest peak he could and would remain there for a few hours.

May might have been the officer on deck on watch, but he watched his captain climb up the rigging into the masts where he could just be seen in this lighting, wondering not for the first time what Clegg was doing up there though he guessed the man could be using the stars to navigate much like the Vikings had long ago. More than once the other officers which included Frost had speculated about it, but they didn't know what Clegg was doing in the rigging. He had been going up there more and more nowadays.

As he sat in the rigging completely alone, Clegg crossed his legs and entered a meditative phase while he thought the necessary block transfer computations while he held onto the key to the TARDIS that had brought him to Earth. It took a few moments for the computations to work, but he confirmed what he already knew. It was stupid to constantly check to see if the TARDIS was still on Earth, but since that ship was the only lifeline he had to getting away from Earth and getting out there into the universe, he would keep on checking if he had to exhaust his current incarnation to do so.

Once he was sure the TARDIS was still on Earth, though he didn't know for sure if the Time Lords weren't interested in it returning to Gallifrey because they had more than enough time on their hands or if it was because they were bone idle, Clegg turned his attention to the navigation chart and he opened the leather bound book and took out the pencil he'd brought up with him.

After staring up into the night sky so he could see the position of the stars, Clegg made a few calculations in his mind and jotted them down into the book before he marked the position on the chart. In the morning he would have to make a few checks with the compass and sextant, but he preferred this one since it was so quiet, but because the crew were humans they'd expect him to use the primitive methods of navigation.

When he was finished, the Time Lord just sat in the rigging, his eyes closed as he concentrated.

* * *

The cannonball struck the side of the hull, smashing the hull like a wrecking ball and splinters went flying through the hull of the brigantine. Clegg winced as his eyes burned in the smoke that the wind hadn't had time to blow away, and he cursed as he tried to see through the smoke. He could just about manage it, and he spotted the other ship. As a Time Lord, Clegg didn't believe in ghosts, knowing there were instead places where psychic energy and certain points in time brought the mental energies of people who had once inhabited places and had passed on but their energy remained, but he couldn't help but think about how ghostly the image of the other ship was framed by the smoke from their guns.

He could see the lower hull, but the most prominent view of the ship were the masts and some details of the rigging and the sails, but he could see the firing of the other ships guns, and feel the impacts as the cannonballs smashed into the hull of the Seal.

"FIRE!" Clegg shouted, his voice becoming hoarse as he bellowed.

Clegg allowed himself a minute to think as the two ships rocked under the impacts of their new barrages. The Seal had been heading close to Port Royal in order to sell one half of the cargo to their contacts in that town before moving onto another. But they had spotted another ship, another brigantine like their own, and the other ship was heading straight for them. Clegg had assumed after checking through the telescope that the ship was just another cargo ship, and had ordered them to sail casually into the harbour. They had far too much cargo in their hold, way too much and they didn't have any more space in the hold for more.

And then the firing had started. The other ship had struck their colours, and sent up the Jolly Roger. Clegg, furious by the sudden attack, ordered the Seal's own Jolly Roger to be sent up. Clegg had been a pirate long enough to know that not all pirates considered other pirate brethren. In fact, he would have been surprised if the other ship stopped the attack once they realised they were fighting other pirates.

The attack had been so sudden Clegg couldn't even tell how many guns the other ship had, but he didn't care at that point. He grabbed Frost, the other man looked like he had just crawled up a chimney.

"What's the damage?" Clegg demanded.

Frost yelled over the din. "I'm not sure, I was going to find out-"

"Order the remaining guns to load with grape and canister shot," Clegg ordered, hoping the crew on the other brigantine had enough common sense to count as more and more of their crew were shot down. "Don't let them get within grappling range!" he added.

As the fight went on, both ships were sustaining a lot of damage. Much of the smoke was still present, but the Seal had managed to move a little out of the range of the other pirate brigantine so they could assess their injuries and regroup.

Clegg helped the gun crews as best he could, making sure they loaded their guns with ordinary shot to chain and canister shot, and grapeshot. The grapeshot and canister would break apart their containers and cause massive damage to the other pirate ship. Clegg dashed to the rear of the Seal when he felt he had done enough to study the other ship, but because he didn't have the telescope and even Time Lord eyes lacked the range certain animals did, he couldn't make out how many guns the other brigantine had. Clegg glowered angrily at the other ship, but he couldn't do more than that, cursing the primitive weapons the humans equipped their ships. If they survived, he would need to take the Seal somewhere where he could create better weapons.

When the two ships sailed closer to one another (Rassilon, the speed of these things!), Clegg wasn't surprised when the second ship opened fire.

"Fire as you bear!" Clegg called to his crew as he never took an eye off the other ship, and he counted the number of guns. They were 7 guns short compared to the Seal.

He picked up his telescope and watched as a canister split open. The musket balls and other pieces of shrapnel in the fragile iron case flew everywhere and killing quite a few men on the quarterdeck, but how many of them were actually killed he didn't know. Lowering the telescope, the Time Lord hurried over to the man by the wheel to give him orders before he ordered before getting the gun crews to reload. After the second brigantine fired their next broadside, the Seal sailed closer to the other ship and fired while the other ship's crew were occupied with reloading their guns before the Seal moved off again before firing from the other side and reloading again. After the second ship fired again, the Seal moved closer and fired, destroying the bowsprit and destroying much of the bow.

The two pirate ships had been locked in their battle for over an hour. The new pirate ship may not have had more guns, but their crew weren't the type of people keen on giving up, but the number of their crew who'd been killed had meant they had needed to divert much of their crew into loading and firing their guns. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it worked. The longer the fighting carried on the more bored Clegg became with it. He was pleased that the drills he'd pushed his crew in to load the guns and clear for action had resulted in a more efficient force than the pathetic and struggling bunch that had existed because of Abercrombie's unlamented regime, but he was getting bored with the fight.

Clegg had taken over one of the guns and had it loaded after he ordered Frost to steer the Seal around so the gun was aimed directly at the aft cabin, but the speed of the ship was so comparatively slow than Clegg would've wanted, and he wanted this fighting over and done with before it was too late.

When the gun was finally where he wanted it, Clegg didn't hesitate. He shoved the fuse into the hole where the powder charge was located, mentally preparing himself for the blast. The aft of the ship exploded, it was literally blown to pieces as the cannonball smashed through the thin glass and destroyed the magazine.

All around, he could hear the mutterings of his crew, but Clegg didn't even give them the chance to do anything more than gape. Head held high, he walked to the helm and gave the man at the wheel a new order, and within ten minutes without giving the other pirate ship which was now a crippled wreck adrift, but Clegg didn't care about them and he put them out of his mind when they were far away.

* * *

The Seal sailed beyond Port Royal, heading deeper into the Caribbean. Clegg had told the crew if they headed anywhere near a port where there were authorities there was the chance they'd find out about their piracy, and that was the last thing they needed on top of everything else. Many of the crew protested, but they had quickly shut their mouths after he'd pointed out to them they would have to answer questions. Who had attacked them? Why were they carrying so much cargo that was nearly beyond what a hold should carry in the first place? Too many questions, and while Clegg was sure he could lie and hypnotise his way out of trouble he didn't want to take the chance. Again, the crew weren't happy. Clegg was getting frustrated by them and was wondering how he could keep them all under control; during his time as captain and a pirate himself, Clegg had heard of pirate captains who ruled their crews by fear. He had no intention of running his ship in a similar manner.

Anyway, he was too busy trying to find somewhere remote along the coast, somewhere beyond ports and harbour towns where the Seal could be repaired without interference, but Clegg had other ideas. He was tired of the guns with their powder, their cannonballs….. But he was also fed up with the Seal's lack of speed, its dependence on wind for propulsion; a sailing ship may be beautiful to look at and work on for a time, but Clegg didn't want an exhausted crew who saw nothing but an endless expanse of water, and was battered by the winds and the storms they could barely work. He knew that with his superior technical and scientific knowledge, he could build a more powerful ship if he had the resources, but he knew he couldn't without causing problems to the Web of Time, and considering the fact the Time Lords had exiled him that was the last thing he needed.

Whenever he thought about his people, he couldn't help but scowl. He had good ideas what kind of trouble he had caused the Time Lords. Like the other members of the Deca, Clegg had wanted the Time Lords to change, to grow and become better than the ancient, dusty, stagnant senators and observers they were. Groups like the Deca were formed by Academy students who wanted their world to change, but they always seemed to become compliant with the traditions of the Time Lords, i.e they became the same dull-witted and unimaginative dusty senators as the older generations.

But the Deca was more ambitious. Personally Theta Sigma wanted his people to change, but he couldn't see it happen so quickly, but in any case he doubted Koschei or Magnus would stay on Gallifrey long to make any real difference.

Clegg knew those two. He may have had difference with them over the last hundred years, but he knew they weren't the type to give up on their ambitions, and he knew that kind of attitude could mean the High Council would probably move against them…. He only hoped they got away from Gallifrey quickly before the Time Lords acted, but he doubted they would be as complacent as he had been. They were at the forefront of the movement to make Gallifrey wake up, whereas he had been in the foreground, but he had done more than his fair share. Magnus and Koschei were at the front, so they knew the dangers better than he had, but if things grew out of control for them both then he couldn't imagine them wanting to stay on Gallifrey.

It took days for the Seal to locate the island they needed. It was fairly remote and while it was noted in the navigational reference books each ship was issued, Clegg studied its shoreline closely. He had chosen a number of small islands around America, and this was one with a natural bay which would provide shelter for the ship, but according to the entry in the book the island was also home to timbers and hopefully minerals where Clegg could perform experiments to improve the fighting capacity of the Seal.

He was realistic enough to know he couldn't do more than that; while he knew a submarine would be perfect and ideal for piracy, he knew he couldn't do it with the resources he had, and besides, if he went ahead with plans to build one regardless he would need to train the crew, and he didn't have time for that. He might be able to live for thousands of years in his current incarnation, but the humans were, well, humans.

It took a month to properly explore the island, but Clegg was pleased when he discovered minerals like iron, copper, zinc, aluminium, but there were other chemicals as well. Under his guidance the crew cut down the strongest trees and cut them into pieces appropriate for repairing the Seal. The ship itself was unloaded of cargo to make it simpler for the crew to rebuild and strengthen the hull; Clegg had already made plans to use metal struts to reinforce the hull, and form a kind of flexible net to catch cannonballs. It would take a lot of hard work, but the end result would be worth it in the long run.

On the island, he had organised workshops to cut up the wood brought close to the beach, using a system of pulleys to heave the logs to the workshop where the carpenter and a handful of volunteers who quickly became the jack of all trades worked to cut up the wood and stockpiled it for the repair work. Another workshop was where Clegg himself worked with the blacksmith; the Time Lord was a little bit out of his depth with the forge work, he might have a superior knowledge of metals, but he had never used that knowledge in this manner before, but he quickly got hold of himself and it wasn't long before he and the members of the crew who were experienced blacksmiths or had trained in the trade before being pressed into service were using the minerals found around the island to create the metal struts Clegg had in mind to prevent round shot from causing extreme damage.

But Clegg wanted to go further.

* * *

The Seal stayed at the island for nearly 8 months while the cargo they'd brought in was kept in caves near the beach to keep them safe and out of the sun. The island had once been volcanic so it had a large cave system that helped the crew locate minerals Clegg needed.

While the crew refitted the Seal to make it stronger, Clegg and a few others worked hard to create the new weapons their ship needed.

It didn't take long for Clegg and his small group to develop gunpowder and manufacture shells which would be fired from guns and lit with a fuse to detonate. After experimenting with the explosive cannonballs to develop their explosive potential, Clegg brought a consignment on board the Seal and stored them. The crew had seen the demonstrations of the explosives, and so they were quite nervous about seeing them brought onboard the Seal.

After 8 months of refitting and strengthening the hull of the Seal and adding new explosive shells to the ships arsenal, the Seal was ready for sea. The hold was full again and the provisions were restocked with fresh meats, vegetables and fruits enough to last for months. On the quarterdeck Clegg gave the order, "Set sail."

* * *

Next chapter will include The Buccaneer's revenge against others. When I first wrote this story I was concerned about the reasons the Time Lords could have used to exile Theta Sigma, and I found on a nifty website the history of the Doctor that the Doctor was a member of the Deca. At the Time Lord academy, many young Time Lords form groups to change the planet and make it grow again, but they ironically become what they're trying to prevent when they leave a few centuries down the line. I'm not sure if the Doctor was involved or not, but in this story he had links, and he had made enough of an impression on the High Council to exile him, and this will have consequences for when he wants to leave Earth.

In the meantime, he is constantly checking on the TARDIS that brought him to Earth and making sure it's there. When I planned this story I was tempted, really tempted, to make Clegg design other weapons, but I think explosive shells are simple don't you think?

Please leave some feedback.


	6. Chapter 6 Governor's daughter

Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who.

Governor's daughter.

"Sail off the starboard beam, sir!"

Clegg instantly pulled his telescope out and squinted through the lenses. The other ship was too far away for him to get an accurate idea of what it was, but it looked quite large through the eyepiece of the telescope. Clegg studied the other ship as best as she could, coming to a snap decision.

"Beat to quarters," he ordered, "and get the explosive shells brought up here."

The Time Lord kept the telescope to his eye so he could monitor the other ship. It looked like the ship was heading straight for the Seal, and as they came closer to the pirate ship it was easy for Clegg and the other watches on the deck to take in the size of the ship.

"It looks like a Ship of the Line," one of the seamen commented; everyone on the Seal was thankful that being a pirate gave them the liberty to speak their minds without fear of being punished for it.

Clegg nodded, hoping he appeared more confident than he probably looked. He just wished he had done more work, but with the primitive materials and tools he had available, he couldn't have developed the weapons he had had thought of in the time limit he was under. It didn't help he had needed to work with the primitive gunpowder formula when there were more dangerous and more effective explosives out there, but without access to the laboratory and workshop in the TARDIS and with the concerns of the stability of the Web of Time to think about, to say nothing about his uncertainty of where he stood with the other Time Lords, Clegg's choices had been limited.

The other ship was definitely a Ship of the Line flying the flag of the Royal Navy, and it was heading close to the Seal. When the other ship was close enough to come alongside, Clegg was surprised when instead of firing their cannons as he'd expected the other ship sent up a number of flags. With his telescope, Clegg took a closer look at the flags. "They want us to identify ourselves, they're looking for the ship commanded by Captain Clegg," the Time Lord announced without lowering his telescope, "let's see how they like our greeting. Prepare to fire, run up the skull and cross bones."

* * *

On the quarterdeck of the naval ship, Captain Phillips squinted through his own telescope, scanning the Brigantine. He knew sending up the message was an inherent risk. Clegg was not as notorious as other pirates in these waters, but he was someone not to be underestimated, and it was well known and documented he used a Brigantine, and since Phillips had been tasked with finding the pirate his means for finding the elusive pirate were limited. But even if he encountered the pirate, there was no chance he would be a threat, not to his ship.

Phillips was pleased to be the commander of such a fine warship, he knew without a doubt in a straight up fight the tiny barge Clegg was reported to be using would be no match for him. It was surprise to him when the Brigantine ran up a familiar black flag, but his surprise grew when the other ship began firing at them.

Surprise turned to horror when explosions rocked the ship, particularly in the masts. The Brigantine's guns fired, but instead of the heavy flight there was instead a whistling sound before an explosion followed. Phillips turned to his first lieutenant in shock. "They're using explosive shot," he said in horror, knowing there was probably no way for them to fight back, and his mind raced as he tried to work out a way to deal with this.

Phillips knew better than to underestimate pirates on a good day, and he knew each captain and crew had their own approaches and tactics, but he had never encountered a pirate like this before. "We're going to have to fix this as best we can," he said quickly, "move the ship as far out of the Brigantine's range as possible, that should give us time to load the guns."

The first lieutenant and the others hurried of carry out their captain's orders and one of them hurried to the wheel and ordered the two men responsible for shifting the massive wheel to move them as far from the Brigantine as possible, but others hurried around the ship to order the crew to load the guns quickly, but the surprise attack had shocked the crew of the warship. Other lieutenants went around the ship to see how much damage the explosive shells had inflicted on their ship. The pirates had fired several of them and they needed to see how much of their ship had been damaged and what it would do to lose that part in the battle ahead.

* * *

Standing near the wheel on his own ship, Clegg could see the warship veering away. Smoke was rising from several sections, one of the largest clouds of smoke was rising from one of the masts which had caught fire, and was burning through the sail cloth and the ropes holding the structure together. The warship was damaged, but it was a long way from severely crippled, and now it was trying to get away after spending 20 minutes sailing closer to the Seal. They were going to use the time to load their guns, and while Clegg had augmented the Seal's weapons thanks to that time on the island he knew in terms of cold hard numbers the warship had superior numbers.

After that other pirate ship attack, Clegg had no intention of letting any enemy ship overpower his own ship, and he wasn't going to let the Royal Navy bring him down now. He had too much to learn still before he decided it was time to head back to the TARDIS that was still in London so he could escape.

"Follow them," Clegg ordered the helmsman, not bothering with the stupid language seamen used when a more straight language existed.

"Aye, aye, sir," the man at the wheel responded.

Leaving the wheel Clegg headed over to the gun crews. "Reload your guns. Load the guns with the sack bomb, and canister shot," he told them.

The Seal was faster than the warship, but the warship had a head start on the Brigantine. Clegg scanned the massive warship from the angle the ship was at, trying to figure out a way to cause a maximum amount of damage from their current distance. A smile spread across Clegg's face, and the Time Lord walked over to stand between two guns.

"You -" he said to one crew clustered around a cannon, "aim your gun at their rudder. We need to cripple that ship, take away some of their strengths."

The gun crew didn't see a problem with that, and they made the necessary preparations.

Clegg went to the second crew. "I want you to fire your shot through the aft cabin," he said.

The two gun crews prepared their guns, and as they got ready Clegg added mildly. "Fire as you bear."

The first shell went straight through the aft cabin, and when it exploded it tore a good portion of the aft section of the man of war to pieces. May who had been standing nearby suddenly called, "They're surrendering, Captain."

Clegg looked through his telescope and saw the naval ensign being lowered. "Cease firing," the Time Lord ordered, and he waited for the order to be circulated through the Seal before he gave his next order, "send a signal to the other ship," he ordered May, knowing the other man who was more educated than some of the pirate crew, "tell them I want to see their captain, but let them know that if there's any treachery on their part, then the battle will resume."

May hid his clear surprise by Clegg's intentions, but the Time Lord had to give him credit for just obeying the order, "Aye, sir," the mate headed off, giving Clegg the chance to speak to the others. "Reload your guns, use the explosive shot and canister. If anything happens then fire your guns, and remember - you're firing to kill.

Captain Phillips felt nervous, but using the long and hard earned skills of controlling his emotions he'd picked up over the years, he was able to fight it down. He just wished he could keep his blood pressure and his desperately beating heart from making him so nervous about meeting Captain Clegg himself. The pirates in the boat were silent as they gently rowed to their ship, none of them had threatened him in any way, but he was on the receiving end of some hostile glares, but otherwise they had not behaved as he'd expected the lawless brigands to act.

Ushered firmly up the ladder, Phillips felt self conscious and more than a little worried when he caught sight of the curious but hostile looks he was receiving from the pirates. Why weren't they doing anything to him?

From the crew, a tall man stepped forwards. Phillips studied him, he was a man dressed in the clothes of an ordinary seaman, but there was something in his bearing that took him by surprise. The man seemed to be somewhere between his thirties and forties, but there was something that told Phillips the man was much older than he looked.

"I am Captain Clegg," the man said shortly, "and you are?"

Surprised that Clegg wasn't the type of man he'd thought he was, Phillips took a moment before he responded. "I am Captain Phillips."

What the pirate captain did next took the naval officer by surprise, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see some of the pirates were just as surprised as he was by the pirate leader's courtesy. He held out his hand. "Welcome aboard my ship, Captain," Clegg said with some irony, "I believe you were looking for us."

The smugness in Clegg's voice as well as the sardonic humour infuriated Phillips. These pirates had launched a vicious attack against his ship, killing god knew how many of the crew. Phillips had encountered pirates many times during his career, in these waters it was hard not to go a month without encountering a pirate, but he had never ever come across a pirate ship that used exploding shot before.

"You should be glad to know I'm willing to tow your ship to an island so you can repair your ship," Clegg went on, idly holding up his hand to forestall any word of complaint from one of his crew, "after I've taken you there, we can both go our own separate ways. Is that alright?" The pirate captain finished.

"The Roy-" Phillips began before he was interrupted.

"Good," Clegg said firmly, knowing what the naval captain was about to threaten him with, but truthfully he wasn't in the mood for any ridiculous propaganda. "Now, I want you to tell me why the navy are coming after me now?"

"Why do you think we're coming after you?"

Genuine anger flashed across the pirate captain's face. "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I'm a lot smarter than you will ever know in your little life. You signalled us to identify ourselves," Clegg said, reminding the captain of what happened before the first shots were fired. "You were looking for me. How many other ships are out there doing the same thing?"

He needed to know how many ships were out there looking for him before he could tell his crew they were going back to England, though he wasn't in any real hurry to do so - he was learning a great deal, and he was enjoying himself even if his trip to Earth had resulted in him losing a regeneration, but he didn't want the navy getting in the way.

Phillips realised he didn't have any alternative but to tell Clegg the truth. "I don't know," he replied honestly, "several ships by now, I'm sure, but I can't say."

"Can't or won't?" Clegg pointed out before he shrugged his shoulders, seeing the truth behind the other captain's words; with how nonexistent the planet's communications were, it was impossible to know what was going on, and who was doing what. But he did want to know who had sent this captain in the first place.

A few hours later saw the pirate ship begin to tow the crippled Man of War to an island, not the same one the Seal had previously been too but an uninhabited island nonetheless. Clegg was watching the massive dark shape of the warship as the Seal gently towed in to the island. The rudder of the warship had been destroyed during the battle, so they had little choice but to cooperate.

Clegg sensed the presence of someone nearby and he turned and found Frost there. The human's face was set, and his body language was aggressive.

"Why are we towing them to an island?" He demanded. "They attack us and they could've killed us even after we'd made that explosive shot, and you're towing them to an island so they can come after us again-"

"They're one of many ships that are looking for us," Clegg pointed out calmly, his hand going to his cutlass; he might like Frost, but he'd learnt enough about the pirate culture to know he'd have no choice but to kill the man if he crossed a line. "Besides, I'm not planning on letting them get away with it."

Frost's aggressive stance faded somewhat, melting into one of surprise. "What do you mean?"

Clegg's only answer was to smirk. "You'll find out," he answered enigmatically before his smirk vanished, "get back to work."

A few hours later, Clegg met with his officers in the cabin. "Some of you are probably thinking we're going to let that ship come after us again - we're not. We're going to destroy that ship."

None of the pirate officers protested, they knew how dangerous the warship was if it survived, how much they could tell their superiors if they reached port. Frost didn't look surprised, he'd done some thinking and realised what Clegg was planning.

"We're not going to turn the ship about and attack her with cannons, not again," Clegg went on, "we might manage to destroy that ship, but we'll probably be destroyed as well."

"We could board their ship," someone suggested.

"We could, but they'll be prepared for such a move," Clegg pointed out, "no, we're going to need to do something else. We can't outright fire on that ship without being shot at in turn. We can't board her and kill the crew. One thing we could do would be to simply cut the tow ropes, we're using to drag her half dead carcass to an island, but while that might be a good move, letting them drift away they still have some of their boats, and they could either reach an island or they might be picked up. I like the last one, personally, because I don't want us to waste our explosive shot. Their rudder has been destroyed, but they've still got some sails to help them move. They might manage to rig up something to help steer their ship."

The pirate officers had to admit he had made some good points, and now they had heard what the captain wanted they realised how limited their own ideas were because they were all virtually the same, and besides it wasn't as though the crew on the warship wasn't already expecting them to do anything like that. The moment their captain returned to them, safe and sound, he had probably ordered his own crew to prepare the guns and had his men issued with muskets and cutlasses, ready for a fight.

No, they realised for ship to be destroyed, they'd need to do something different.

"Wait," Clegg said out loud as an idea entered his mind. "Do we still have some of the old naval jackets left over from the mutiny?"

May frowned. "I think so," he said slowly as he tried to remember if they'd remembered to bring any of the old jackets on-board the Seal and had just forgotten them.

"It doesn't really matter if we do," Clegg went on, "but it would be a good thing if we did have some of them still on board.."

He outlined a plan to his officers, a plan that was risky and dangerous, but it might just work in his case. As for the pirate officers, they were surprised and more than a little amazed by what their captain had had in mind. But they had to admit it was the best and only option they currently had available at the moment.

As he swam towards the warship, completely naked, Clegg tried not to think of what he would find on the warship, even as he struggled to hold the bundle wrapped in sail cloth out of the water as his other hand was clasped around the towrope, using that to guide himself closer towards the warship. But while he was trying not to think too much of what was onboard the warship and the potential problems he might have when he tried to do what he planned to do, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just being crazy. The journey to the warship was a nightmare for Clegg - his Time Lord body might be stronger and more resilient than a human's, but that didn't mean his arms were immune to the aching as he struggled to hold the dark bundle of sail cloth containing clothes he needed to get to the warship. More than once he had needed to spit out mouthfuls of salt water, grimacing at the lingering taste of salt on his lips.

Clegg was lucky that when the Seal crew had transferred from the Raven the men hadn't thrown every single jacket away, and when he reached the keel of the warship he had to wait a moment to give himself time to take a deep breath before he opened the pack and threw up the grappling hook he had packed in the bundle. It wasn't a great throw, but he had to get into the foc'sle, and from there he clambered up the side of the ship and hid himself away as quietly as he could.

Cowering away in the shadows, he listened. He wasn't surprised to hear the sounds of men chatting while they used tools to repair what little remained of their masts. The Time Lord nodded in satisfaction when he realised that he might be able to get away with this. He'd been hoping that boarding the warship would be straightforward enough and he could mingle with the crew for a bit while they worked to repair the damage they'd taken during the battle. Clegg unpacked his clothes from the bundle, and when he was finished, he used the sailcloth to dry himself quickly before he donned his trousers - he had no long he had before he met someone here; everyone might be busy working on the repairs, but that didn't mean someone couldn't come here to do a shit (it surprised him no end that he was more crass than he had been before he had been pressed into service), so he had put his clothes on quickly.

When he was finished, Clegg left the foc'sle and sneaked through the ship as he tried to find the powder magazine using the directions taken from one of the old veterans amongst the crew, but while Clegg had a good mental image of where to go, he had to do his best not to be seen by anyone. The majority of the crew were busy working above deck, but there were still a few crew members busy working below. As he crept through the ship, Clegg eyed a few of the marines. He had hoped to get hold of one of those red uniforms, but all the marines had been thrown overboard once the Raven crew had mutinied. But it was obvious that like the other seamen, the marines were forced to pull their weight to help with the repairs, but Clegg wasn't bothered.

It took Clegg a while to get into the magazine, but on the way there he was wondering just what he could do to cause the maximum amount of damage to the ship to get it to sink. He didn't want to kill the crew despite the more bloodthirsty wishes of his crew - it still amazed him how much piracy had gripped his crew, and it also made him wary of how violent humans could be even if he genuinely enjoyed their company, and found them a breath of fresh air compared to his fellow Time Lords - he just wanted to sink the ship and if one or two members of the crew survived, they would spread the word throughout the Royal and Merchant navies about him. That was better than ships simply disappearing.

But then again, Clegg didn't like killing full stop - he might have been a pirate, but he was still a Time Lord enough to know how wasteful killing was and while he knew quite a few would die tonight, he knew some of the crew would survive.

He sneaked into the magazine, and grabbed two charges of gunpowder and fuse wire, and headed down into the hold, avoiding a few of the warship's crew as he went down. He was lucky that the only sources of lighting came from the lanterns with the single candles burning inside them, so he had plenty of shadows and hiding places to pick from.

In the hold Clegg placed one of the gunpowder charges on top of the ballast, and he began digging a small pit close to the hull of the ship. Once he was sure the hole was big enough, he gently planted the charges inside before he attached the fuse wire and then shovelled the ballast back to fill the hole, and he slowly and quietly unravelled the fuse spool and took it back up to the magazine where he attached the fuse wire to another charge.

Leaving the magazine, Clegg gently unspooled the fuse wire and walked back through the ship before he stopped and, grabbing a lantern, lit the fuse and packed it in a corner close to the power magazine before he made a break for it towards one of the gun ports and jumped out before his brain had time to engage. He swam towards the bow of the ship as fast as he could. He couldn't hear any signs that the warship's crew had heard him jump into the water, but he wasn't going to wait for them to realise he was there.

Clegg had just reached the bow where the tow rope was tied, and had just started to swim down it back toward his own ship when he heard a series of muffled bangs and thumps coming from warship, and he turned his head in time to see a large section of the warship's already damaged hull explode. Hearts filled with a little regret, the Time Lord turned back and swam towards the Seal. By the time Clegg was back on board his ship, he could see that the warship was being evacuated.

"Have you cut the tow rope?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Clegg turned his back on the terrible sight of the warship as it began to sink. "Get a few men to watch out for any survivors," he added to some of his officers. "I don't want anyone on-board. Nothing."

He knew his orders could be misinterpreted as brutal, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get to the cabin and shut himself inside, and he left the quarterdeck and headed for the cabin and locked himself away. Captain Phillips had told him about the governor who'd despatched him and a number of other captains to track him and other pirates down, but Clegg didn't really care.

While he was inside his cabin, Clegg started checking over the charts on the table and he began calculating a course that would take them to one of those little islands in the Caribbean that held a port town. Captain Phillips and quite a few naval ships by the sound of it had been sent from this island by a governor who'd probably called in a few favours from the navy to hunt him down. Clegg wasn't sure whether or not he should be flattered or worried by the attention, though truthfully he doubted it would make any difference. Clegg knew that many of the crew would want to deal with the governor, and make him pay for going to the trouble of hunting them down, but Clegg wasn't sure if he should bother but in the end he decided it would be best to play to his crew's desires.

Clegg grimaced as he thought about his crew. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep them in control. At first it hadn't been so bad, but that latest incident with Frost had been one of a number of examples where his crew questioned his decisions. It made him wonder if they would ever truly want to return to England with the loot they'd collected over time. He would outlive them all, but he desperately wanted to get off this planet in the TARDIS.

He would deal with the problem when it came to it, he decided, and continued with calculating the course; they would need to return to the island where the Seal had been repaired, and replenish the supplies of explosive shot, and perhaps even work to improve their weapons though the facilities they would need for that type of work was considerable.

* * *

A few months later Clegg was tucking into a meal in a tavern, ignoring the raucous noise with a practised ease. It had been so long since he'd had a meal that didn't come salty or showed signs of going mouldy that this was a treat. After destroying the naval warship, the Seal had returned to the island she had left only a few days before they came across the ship, and replenished the supplies of explosive shot. Clegg had long since decided not to bother making anything more complex than explosive shot. They just didn't have the tools or the equipment needed to make more powerful weapons.

After leaving the island, Clegg had guided the Seal to the island town where the governor had sent out those naval hunters. The pirates had already dealt with one of them, and so they had travelled to this island without attacking any ship, or even announcing to any ship who they were in case it got back to the harbour. Most of Clegg's men were ashore like he was, learning as much as they could about the town so then if they decided to raid it, then they would know the best places to focus on and which they should avoid.

Clegg and the shore party had been ashore for only a few hours, and they'd already learnt a great deal about the island. But Clegg had learnt a bit about the governor without his men, knowing anything about what he'd done. He had used a combination of subtle hypnosis and telepathy to force some of the townspeople into telling him about the governor, and he had found the perfect means to make him regret sending those ships after him. Speaking of which, when Clegg and his fellow pirates had arrived at the port, he'd noticed that there were only a few naval ships in the harbour at all - there were 3 frigates, 2 ships of the line, and a man of war, and 2 sloops, and it was clear that the harbour was large enough to support a lot of traffic and yet there didn't seem to be anything here.

Another thing Clegg had noticed about the town were three gibbets, an iron cage composed of bands and chains that contained the remains of three pirates. Some, if not all of the shore party, had been downright frightened of the grim threat and warning to all pirates, that this would be their fate if they were caught. Clegg hadn't said anything to reassure them mostly because there was little he could have said to reassure them, and he hoped they didn't feel that he didn't care, but he'd been busy trying to think about what they should be doing in a short while.

Clegg shook his head and thought more about what he'd just learnt about the governor. He wasn't very popular by all accounts, he imposed a lot of tax on the island, most of it beyond unfair but that was the townsfolk's problem, not his. He also had an equally unpopular wife, who was incredibly arrogant, and they had a daughter who was just as bad.

Clegg didn't care if the girl was nice or not. What mattered to him the most was the thought of kidnapping her and ransoming her. Not only would the news about the kidnap and the ransom spread throughout the Caribbean, but also word of why it had happened in the first place. It might stop other governors and commodores from sending squadrons of Navy warships after him and his crew. Besides, it wasn't as if the girl would be mistreated by him and the crew of the Seal.

The only problem was how they'd kidnap her.

It would either have to be done when the girl was out and about during the day, the only problem with that was how they'd get her back to the ship. It might be easier for the girl would be closer to the harbour, but how would they take her and keep her quiet? Clegg could hypnotise her to put her into a deep sleep, but he couldn't stop people from seeing them take her to a boat even if the people here disliked her and her family intensely. Besides, the governor would reward any information relating to the kidnap, and people would take it if they could get away with it. No, a daylight kidnapping was too risky. It would have to be done at night. Clegg already knew where the house was thanks to the information he'd taken from the humans he'd linked his mind with, and since human security in this century was virtually nonexistent except for the guards, it shouldn't be difficult to get into the house. The only problem was the place was guarded, but the pirate captain didn't see that as an obstacle, just an irritant.

He looked up when Frost and Harper appeared.

"What took you two so long?" he greeted them both as he took a bite out of a piece of crusty bread.

Frost glowered at him even as he sat down. "We've checked out the fort," he whispered as low as he could so he wouldn't be overheard, but his fellow pirates could hear him, "it's too well guarded, and we couldn't get close enough to get an idea of how far the powder magazine was."

Clegg was about to open his mouth, but he quickly closed it as two red coats passed by. He waited until they were out of his sight before he replied to what Frost had said. "We're not touching the fort," he told the other two pirates, and he smiled at their looks of surprise.

"We're not, then what's the point of coming here and raiding the town-?"

"We don't need the ship for that, all we need is to take a few of our crew, and bring them here and break into a few people's houses like they were conventional burglaries. We don't need to bomb the place to bits, and besides while that idiot governor sent those ships to hunt us down, the navy have left some of their ships here. They would tear the Seal to pieces," Clegg said as he picked up a piece of cheese; he hadn't thought much of some of the human food when he'd arrived in this century, but he'd developed a taste for some of it, though he yearned for more varied food instead of the simple muck he was forced to eat.

"So what do we do?" Harper asked.

Clegg paused, he didn't really want to speak in such an open place where anyone could eavesdrop on them though he doubted many of them would really care, since pirates frequented towns like this, sometimes openly and sometimes in secret. "I'll tell you later, when we're in the boat," he whispered back in reply, hoping his tone told them to drop it.

Neither pirate looked happy about that, but they knew better than to press him too much. After Frost and Harper ate and drank their own meals, the three returned to the boat to head back to the ship. But standing above the boat, Clegg sighed at the sight before he sat down and helped Harper and Frost, he was getting truly fed up and irritated with boats, brigantines, frigates and ships of the line. He was tired of Earth, this boring era, and he just wanted to return to the TARDIS, and get back into the universe.

After the three pirates pulled away in the boat, Frost glanced at him as they pulled at their oars. "So, what's the idea, I mean, if we're not going to attack the fortress-?"

"Do you remember Captain Phillips?" Clegg interrupted.

"Phillips? The captain who came after us?" Harper said.

"One of them," Clegg confirmed grimly. "Don't forget he did say he wasn't the only captain looking for us, for ME! The point is Phillips came from this harbour. The governor here sent a few of the ships that should have been HERE, but there are only a few ships here; the navy are many things, but they are not stupid. They probably insisted on keeping the ships in this harbour here, to protect the port. We can't bring the Seal into the port, the ships here will tear our ship to pieces."

Clegg anticipated a protest. "And before you say it, the explosive shells are good but the problem is we don't have any armour on our ship. But we're not going for the ships because the crews there won't really care about burglaries on the land. That's what we're going to do. We're going to divide our crew into parties; one group will stay on the Seal and protect it, another group will divide on land and break into different houses and businesses to steal the money and whatever else is there. But when they go ashore, they cannot drink a drop of rum or any other alcohol."

Frost nodded, seeing sense in that. "Alright, but what do you have in mind?"

"Another group will go to the governor's mansion. The governor sent out ships like the one Phillips commanded, and I've learnt that he has a daughter. We're going to kidnap the girl. We ransom her, the governor gives us the money, and gets her back alive. If we do that without a shot fired, perfect," Clegg said.

"When did you plan to do this?"

"Tomorrow night," Clegg replied. "I want to get a better idea of the lay of the land, find out more about the governor's home, and see if there was a way into the governor's house without anyone really noticing at night and come up with counter plots in case something happens."

Clegg stood outside the governor's house, crouching low in the underbrush. His knees were aching from him crouching in such an uncomfortable position for a while, but he ignored it. He had been walking around the walls surrounding the mansion all morning, always keeping an eye open for any of the guards. He was just lucky the humans cared more for appearances for their military uniforms instead of caring about remaining unseen, but the humans here made it so easy for him to find a hiding place before they arrived, they made so much noise it was almost laughable.

He had left the Seal early in the morning so then he could take advantage of the quiet to reach the governor's mansion and maybe even take a look into the grounds themselves to get an idea of what was there, and what he could use.

The grounds of the mansion were expansive. They had white-beige pavements and gardens and lawns that were neatly arranged with the mansion itself looking like one of the gleaming buildings he had seen on Gallifrey. It only took him half an hour to find other ways in and out, but the problem was they would need to climb the walls just to deal with the guard soldiers protecting the family.

Clegg stayed around the mansion for another few hours as he continued to explore the place before he decided to head back to the Seal. By the time he returned to the ship, he'd come up with the rough outlines of a plan and he met his officers. For an hour, Clegg and the officers discussed the plan, working out the details and who would be doing what. It was decided that Clegg would lead the group to the governor's mansion with a small group to take care of the governor's daughter and provide an escape. Frost and a few others would take their groups and begin raiding businesses and houses for any loot, and they would also start fires on the island to distract the soldiers stationed there to keep them from getting in the way while they took the governor's daughter back to the ship while May stayed on-board the Seal to keep watch and keep close to the harbour while staying out of sight of the fort and the navy ships still there.

When the meeting was over Clegg and the officers left the cabin to make preparations, but unlike other times the crew didn't receive a vote about what they had to do - time was pressing as it was, and truthfully Clegg didn't have time for the democracy pirate ships practiced. The groups were arranged on the quarter deck. They were all dressed in land clothes that they'd managed to steal over time.

Clegg surveyed them for a brief second before he nodded and gestured to the daggers, axes and cutlasses and a few pistols. "Everyone grab a weapon," he ordered. All of the pirates weren't armed yet because of his orders. Clegg didn't want anyone to carry a musket or any weapon larger than a pistol except for a cutlass.

Watching all of the men picking up pistols which had small powder charges attached and a small number of the lead balls and scraps of cloth they needed to go down for a moment, Clegg picked up his own weapons - just a dagger and a cutlass. Once every member of the landing party was armed, some of them carrying torches to light the fires, Clegg issued his last minute orders. "We're going ashore to kidnap the governor's daughter," he announced, though he knew that if one of them were captured, they'd talk just to save their worthless hide, "but some of you are going to commit raids on the houses and businesses themselves. Some of you are going to start fires to keep the soldiers busy while we work to kidnap the daughter of the governor. Those of you who have pistols and cutlasses try not to use them if you can; they're insurance. Don't fire or kill anyone unless you have to. Right, get into the boats."

Leaving the ship, the boats split up and headed to different parts of the port town so anyone on watch in the naval ships or in the fort wouldn't get too suspicious.

Clegg split up with Frost and the others, and took his group to the mansion. "Right," he told them, "it's a long way up, but we've got time."

Following their captain up to the house, the pirates approached the mansion cautiously, and they were half way along when one of them turned back to the town when they heard the sounds of panicked screaming. "Sir, look, they've started the fires!"

Clegg turned around and saw the pirate was right. The fires were small, but they were clearly getting larger as more people became more panicky and afraid of getting burnt to death in the fires. Clegg studied the spectacle and nodded. He had told the officers to be very choosy about where they started the fires so then they didn't accidentally burn down a place where a burglary was taking place.

"Come on, the sooner we get this done, the better," Clegg said, and he continued leading the way to the mansion. As they grew closer, the Time Lord whispered to his men to keep quiet and to hide, and if they came across any guard, they were to kill them while some of them were to get over the walls into the grounds so they could find a way into the house to find the governor's daughter.

Clegg went over the wall, and he quickly hid in a bush and gestured for the next climber to wait for a moment as a soldier came closer. Clegg could see that the man was tired, bored and fed up with his job. He looked fairly young in Clegg's eyes, but that didn't matter. The Time Lord, wincing at the necessity, clamped his hand around the human's face, and snapped his neck before he could make a sound before dragging him back into the bushes and gestured for the next climber to come over the wall. Clegg looked down at the soldier, wincing at the unnatural angle of the neck, and pushed that aside as he reached through the cartridge case and took out some of the soldier's ammunition and he also pulled the musket aside and held onto it, checking it was loaded.

It took the pirates only a few minutes to deal with the remaining guards. There were quite a few of them in the grounds, but like the first guard quite a few of them were bored, and in various states of fatigue that made it easy for the pirates to pick them off. "You," Clegg gestured to a few of the pirates while speaking in a whisper since there may still be some guards nearby that hadn't been accounted for, "stay out here, if you see any more soldiers then deal with them quietly. You three," he pointed at three others, "come with me."

Taking his coat off to muffle the sound of smashing glass - he really wished he had a sonic screwdriver on him, but since the expedition to Earth was just a brief visit, neither he nor Annar had seen much point in taking other pieces of Time Lord technology with them - Clegg smashed the glass window, and reached a hand through the hole after he'd used the pistol in his hand to smash away anymore of the glass that could slice his wrist to pieces.

He stepped through the door and looked around the opulent surroundings. It may have been dark, but Clegg could definitely see that this family certainly loved its position in the town, even if their little empire was tiny considering the size of the island and how many similar governor's there were out there. Clegg ignored it though he didn't care if one of the pirates he'd brought with him stole a few things. Why would it make any difference to him if they took anything?

Clegg led the pirates out of the room and took them upstairs, knowing that was where humans usually lived, something that seemed to occur with other races, including Gallifreyan - it was amazing how many traits other species took into their own - but Clegg pushed that aside and focused on the here and now as he and his fellow pirates upstairs, mindful of any creaks on the stairs after hearing them downstairs and he held his pistol up, hoping that the humans were very, very deep sleepers. The landing was just as opulent as the lower level, but it was narrower and there were several different rooms.

"Stay with me!" Clegg whispered, worried one of them would make a stupid mistake.

Unfortunately, they made a stupid mistake a few seconds later because they opened a door and walked inside… only for two servants to wake up at the noise of the door opening and them noisily clattering in to start screaming - only for Clegg and one of the pirates to shoot them to shut them up, but it was too late. The screams from the servants had woken up others.

"What's going on here? Who are you-?" The voice of a young woman said, but the screaming and the sounds of guns going off had pushed one of the pirates to the edge, and he shot her before Clegg could stop him.

"Stop firing, you idiot!" Clegg shouted, but it was too late - the lead ball had struck the young woman in the chest, and she dropped to the ground, her mouth open in shock.

Clegg went over to her and his hearts almost stopped when he noticed the more expensive nightwear the young woman was wearing - the servants had been dressed in simpler, rougher clothing. Bending down Clegg studied the injury, but he knew it was too late - she was already dead.

"YOU MURDERERS!"

A loud voice screamed from upstairs as a woman who was a much older version of the young lady screeched from upstairs, and Clegg's head snapped up and stared up at her, hoping his expression of regret was obvious to her. But humans were either good or bad at reading expressions or body language, and Clegg knew her emotions would make it impossible to notice when she was in this state.

"YOU KILLED OUR DAUGHTER!"

"Mary, what's - WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER, YOU MURDEROUS BASTARD?!" A man with silvery hair asked before seeing the young woman's dead body lying on the ground.

Clegg turned to his men. "Let's get out of here," he said, and they rushed downstairs and out of the grounds.

"We have to go," Clegg said to the pirates waiting outside.

"Where's the governor's daughter?" One of them asked as they ran to the gates, which were miraculously open and with all the guards dealt with it was easy for the pirates to leave through them than to climb and hop over a wall.

"Dead," Clegg shouted back. "We accidentally woke up a couple of servants, and then she was there, but she startled one of us and got shot. The plan is finished. We have to get away from here, quick, before anything else happens."

* * *

The governor was shaking with repressed rage as he had the colonel of the armed garrison and the commodore commanding the local naval squadron in his office. Now that the mess from last night was over, and he had received the reports of the events from the night before, the governor could see how they were connected, though it had taken him a while since he was still trying to burn through the anger that was burning in him after finding his daughter's dead body - the servants and the soldiers were replaceable but not his daughter, the apple of his eye. She had been murdered needlessly, and his wife was inconsolable with her death.

Several of the local businesses and houses had been broken into and had been burgled, several fires had been lit and had tied up and panicked the townspeople and had kept the soldiers and some of the sailors, those who weren't drunk, busy for hours to put them out. None of the thieves or arsonists had been caught for questioning, but while there didn't seem to a connection the governor had spent an hour before the meeting with the colonel and the commodore trying to make sense of what he knew. There were too many incidents of arson and theft, not to mention murder - those soldiers on the grounds, which only made his wife Mary scream louder and louder as well as their servants - to not be a coincidence.

To any outside observer, they might think it was coincidence, but how could they be? Arson, theft, and murder all in the span of a single night? Unlikely.

The arsons in the town, the murders, the thefts - they were all part of a single plan, but the commodore had brought back news - a ship had been observed sailing away from the port, and it wasn't one of the ships in the harbour. The fort had seen it leave in the early hours of daybreak, but the ship had been out of range of the guns and it didn't see the signal flags that had been raised to bring them back to identify themselves.

"Last night," he said to the two uniformed men, "my house was broken into, your soldiers were killed," he said to the colonel, who was standing there already grim faced, "and the town was being burnt down and burgled, and my daughter was murdered. And you, commodore, you tell me there was an unknown ship nearby."

"I have been thinking about that, sir," the commodore said, keeping his voice at a respectful silence in the fact of the murder of the governor's daughter. "Recently you pressured me to send out ships to help in the hunt for pirates, including Captain Clegg. I believe it is possible that one of the ships sent out encountered him, and he became aware of the hunt, and your involvement in it."

The governor stiffened. Pirates! The scum of the Earth, they cropped up everywhere, small groups appearing out of nowhere faster than the navy and the army could exterminate the vermin. Captain Clegg had quickly become one of the biggest, though he was by far a long way from being close to Blackbeard or Henry Morgan's level of notoriety.

"Do you think Clegg was the one behind last night's…. Crimes?" The governor hissed the last word, unable to contain his fury.

"It's possible, sir," the commodore said, though deep down he found it hard to imagine any pirate just avoiding the chance to not fire cannons at any ship, and just creep in quietly to commit theft and murder, but it wasn't impossible.

"How many ships can you get out there to find Clegg?" The governor asked, trying and failing to not sound excited at the prospect of getting justice for his daughter.

"Not many sir, but that isn't a good idea-" the commodore tried to say, but the governor wasn't in the mood for games or military mumbo-jumbo.

"No matter, get all the ships out there, at once! I want that pirate caught, and while they're at it, they're to capture or kill any pirate they come across! I want Clegg dead!" The governor's mouth was frothing with rage as an image of his only daughter came to mind again. He would make Clegg pay for her murder, oh yes. He would.

Clegg would pay!


	7. Chapter 7 Luck runs out

Disclaimer - You know the drill by now, I don't own Doctor Who.

Luck runs out.

Clegg rubbed his eyes tiredly as he studied the charts in front of him as he tried to think of a way out of the mess he was now in. For the last 2 months, the Seal had been hunted by the Royal Navy stationed out here in the West Indies, the accidental death of the governor's daughter had given them the excuse they needed to hunt down any and all pirates out there.

And it was all his fault.

At first it hadn't been too bad since it took so long for the islands and ships in this stupid era to know what was happening everywhere else, and it was relatively straightforward for Clegg and the rest of the Seal crew to try to move on from that disastrous night, and continue with their lives of pirates. Clegg had taken the Seal to a few of the small islands and had attacked the port towns there after planting bombs on the hulls of various warships using some of the boats and then raiding the town while it was in chaos, but it had proved to be a big mistake, since all the attacks had done was make the navy even more determined to catch him, execute him and his crew, and destroy his ship. It didn't matter which.

Looking down at his charts, Clegg was trying to think of a way he could get himself and his crew out of this mess, though truthfully he was more worried about the crew. He could tell they blamed him for all their bad luck, and he knew he had to shoulder the blame since it had been his idea to capture the governor's daughter and his actions had led to her death, starting a chain reaction where the navy was hunting him down.

The navy had already encountered the Seal a few times, and thinking of those encounters made him feel sick. The Seal had needed to use up all their precious explosive shot just to deal with two ships of the line, and quite a few members of the crew had been killed, impaled either by splinters the length of spears, or shot by musket balls.

For a long time the Time Lord studied the charts of the Caribbean, but he didn't see them; finally he pushed them aside and looked for the charts of the Atlantic ocean, and the ones in Europe. He wondered how the remainder of his crew would feel about the proposal to return to England, but he couldn't help but feel they'd want him to stay here and fight.

As a pirate, Clegg had learnt that you did need to fight, but he was enough of a realist enough to know that while the Seal could stay out at sea for a long time for as long as their food and medical supplies lasted, at some point his ship would encounter another warship, and he doubted they could survive that. The chances of survival had become so serious that they had resorted to towing a boat behind the ship so then they didn't need to waste any time getting survivors into the boats and using those cumbersome ropes to heave them up and drop them into the sea.

Picking up one of the charts, Clegg went to the window and he opened it so he could take a look at the stars to calculate a decent course back to England, and made some notes on the chart itself once he made a few speedy calculations in his head. It was when he was getting into his stride that the door opened, and he turned around quickly, his hand automatically reaching for the cutlass that he had at his side.

In the doorway, covering him with their pistols were his officers and a few other members of the crew. Frost himself was covering him with a musket, of all things.

Clegg sighed under his breath. "We're going through this again, are we?" he asked quietly as he gathered his energy. There was no way he was going to go out without a fight, but he knew that he wasn't indestructible, and there were enough guns covering him to be a threat - if one of those balls hit him in his chest, then there was a good chance he would regenerate, but there was another equal chance he could be killed by a ball if it passed through his hearts before regeneration set in.

It was the same with a cutlass thrust. He had to keep them on the other side of the room, and besides he wasn't sure if they had noticed the open window he'd been using to get a navigational fix.

Frost was the first to reply. "You've led us into one case of bad luck after another," he said.

"I'm also the one who'd led you to your biggest successes," Clegg countered as he walked to the desk casually as if the threat of being shot meant nothing to him, though his eyes never left the pistols, knives, or the musket in Frost's hand. "Don't ever forget that. If it wasn't for me, you would never have become free of Abercrombie and those stupid fops who'd made it their goal to keep us down."

Clegg gestured to the guns. "It mustn't have taken you long to decide to mutiny against me," he commented, "how many of you are backing it?"

"All of the crew," May growled. This was obviously not going the way he'd wanted or expected, which explained his aggression.

"All of them?" Clegg repeated in surprise, before he recalled how everyone of the Raven crew had mutinied against Abercrombie. And he shook his head. "Just as I was thinking of ending our time in these waters and return home," he added in the hope of getting everyone here to change their mind and put up with him for one final voyage, then he would decide what to do with them…

"You were planning on returning us home?" May asked skeptically.

Clegg nodded.

One of the men raised his pistol, and fired it. Clegg dropped to the ground behind the desk, ignoring Frost's angry shouting towards the shooter, and he reached into the desk and pulled out two small, roughly cut wooden cylinders with two fuses, and two pistols with cloth wrapped around both of their flintlock mechanisms.

Crouched behind the desk, Clegg closed his eyes and focused on the speed of local time, and using the Rassilon Imprimature he slowed it down enough to head to the desk and gather the charts, a telescope, the sextant, the dividers and a compass and he stuffed them into his trousers before he lit the fuses on the bombs and returned time to its usual rate. The pirates gaped in shock at how fast he had moved from behind the desk to stand, but they didn't have much time to do anything as he threw the bombs in quick succession, and he used his cutlass to bring the tow rope closer to him.

Grabbing onto the rope, Clegg quickly slid down it to the boat and he quickly used his heavy cutlass to slice through the rope so no one could grab on it and pull the rope to bring the boat back to the ship. Clegg was preparing to make sail when he saw Frost and May stick their heads out of the window of the cabin.

"Using that gun on me isn't going to bring me back, Frost," Clegg shouted when he noticed the musket in his once first mate's hands.

"We'll get you back, Clegg!" Frost shouted back, though the Time Lord was uncertain if that meant he and the others were going to kill him for all of his mistakes, or if they planned to hunt him down.

Clegg held up the charts he'd managed to grab from the cabin. "Not without these; you're a smart man, Frost, but you will need a lot of luck finding your way around. Its one thing being able to use navigational instruments and knowing how to use a chart, but you've never had that kind of training."

"You bastard, Clegg," another pirate shouted from the deck above the cabin. "You can't hide from us forever-"

"Just like you can't with the navy, at some point you'll blunder into the path of a frigate or a sloop," Clegg called mockingly, "I think you'll have a few bigger problems to worry about, don't you?" Stepping over the small mast in the boat, Clegg used all of his strength to push it into position, "Goodbye Seal. I'll see you again, and believe me, you'll regret this."

By that point, the boat had drifted away steadily from the Seal, and Clegg heaved up the sail before he grabbed the oars and he started rowing away from the brigantine, thankful that the darkness of the night meant the chances of the crew finding him were slim.

* * *

Port Royal was just as noisy as Clegg remembered a few weeks later, as the Time Lord pirate ate a simple meal of bread, cheese and bits of tough meet while a pint of rum was sitting nearby. The Seal was only a few miles away from Port Royal when the crew had mutinied against him, and it was child's play for Clegg to row towards. Ever since the Royal Navy had intensified the hunt for him and his crew, Clegg had moved his former ship ten miles further out to sea than he would have done usually.

When Clegg and his former crew had become pirates after that mutiny on the old Raven, one of Clegg's successful policies was to sail close to one of the many islands in the Caribbean and plunder ships leaving the numerous harbours, and then taking what they'd taken to be sold. If there was one thing to be glad for with the death of the governor's daughter, it was the fact the navy had been sending ships out into the deeper waters and not really bothered to imagine that Clegg had found the perfect hiding spot, which was quite close to the port towns themselves, though that had probably changed.

Now he was alone and truthfully he was happy about that because it meant he could no longer hide his alien nature in such a cramped place, but truthfully Clegg was bored. He wanted to get away from Earth, but he needed to either steal another ship or find a berth on a ship that would travel straight to England. He didn't want to go anywhere near the Royal Navy ships, what few there were, because there was a chance Phillips had been rescued by now. But truthfully after his experiences on the Raven, he wanted to steer clear of any naval crew. He could steal a ship, but that was impractical since how would he explain himself being the only occupant on a ship?

Unfortunately, finding a berth was proving to be harder than Clegg had thought it would be since some of the merchant services had now worked out their cargos were targets for piracy. He had beached the boat from the Seal not far from the harbour, but truthfully Clegg didn't want to use the boat to return to England. He had seen the storms thanks to the years he had spent at sea, and they were terrifying on a frigate and a brigantine, in a small boat it would be like asking for certain death.

The boat was a contingency plan he genuinely did not want to use, but it was at the back of his mind regardless.

Once he was finished with the meal, Clegg left the tavern and went out to try to find a berth. He had taken to using burglary to get enough cash to save up for another contingency, passage on a ship if he couldn't get a berth. So far he had earned enough money to do that, but the problem was a berth would keep him busy.

As he tried looking for a ship heading towards England and had berths on board, he kept his eyes open in case he saw someone who recognised him - there were posters with his likeness in a few towns already, but he had been in Port Royal long enough to know this town hadn't received them yet, so he was still safe, but he wanted to get away from the town before that happened - and he saw someone that made his senses tingle.

Walking through the crowd, dressed in a brown tunic with a tricorn hat, was a man who was physically older than Clegg was himself in his current incarnation, sporting a neatly trimmed moustache. Clegg studied the man from where he was, instinctively knowing that the man was another Time Lord. Stepping into an alcove, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and he reached out gently and touched the mind of the other.

It was a risk of course, because he didn't know this Time Lord. But Clegg was very gentle with how he touched the mind of the other Time Lord, making enough mental contact with him while being sure the other didn't notice his presence, but he knew that the Time Lord probably had a TARDIS of his own nearby. If he could get to it then perhaps he could use it to return to the TARDIS he had here. Using the mind of the other Time Lord as a guide and reinforcing his own mental barriers to prevent the other Time Lord from noticing his presence, Clegg followed the man as close as he could through the town, the hunt for a decent berth on one of the ships forgotten in favour of getting something better.

The other Time Lord stopped off at a few of the shops for an hour, picking up supplies like bottles of alcohol, but Clegg always kept a suitable distance from the other Time Lord, trying to make sure he wasn't seen and he made sure the other couldn't sense him. Clegg knew he could have left the other Time Lord and tried to find the TARDIS he had on his own - he'd be able to use the key he had for the Type 53 to get inside of course, all TARDIS keys were the same - but Port Royal was vast, and he had no idea how long the Time Lord had planned to be here for, and he was desperate to get away from this part of Earth and return to London where he could recover the Type 53. He couldn't risk the chance of losing this Time Lord and the TARDIS here.

While he didn't like the obvious risk of the Time Lord realising he was there, Clegg knew he had to follow the other so then he could gain access to the other's TARDIS, but as he did so he looked around for a small but reasonable weapon - he still had his dagger, but he'd been forced to leave his cutlass behind in the boat because it was too large to not be seen - to use on the Time Lord; he didn't want to hurt him after being deprived of the company of another of his race for so long, but while he didn't want to hurt the man he was still nursing a lot of resentment for his exile. He found the weapon in a piece of rope near one of the ships, and he hurried after the other Time Lord.

Finally, after being led around the port, the Time Lord led Clegg to a fairly large looking ship in the docks. It wasn't as grand as the polished looking warships owned by the Royal Navy, this ship looked battered and unkempt, but Clegg recognised the TT capsule for what it was right away, though he could tell this TARDIS was a very old model, but the perception filter was on maximum - if it wasn't for the fact the Time Lord had headed straight for the ship, then he would not have noticed it.

Sneaking quietly on the gangplank, Clegg watched as the Time Lord walked around the quarterdeck, and he crept towards one of the masts and he hid behind it and ducked down. The other Time Lord gave up on his inspection and walked towards the aft cabin. Clegg stood up slowly and padded over to him as carefully as he could, but he cursed how well the chameleon circuit of this TARDIS disguised this ship as a wooden vessel. It even creaked. But despite that, he still headed purposefully towards the other Time Lord, but he was surprised when the other man turned around. He didn't seem surprised to see Clegg.

"Good day to you, Buccaneer. Why don't we step inside my TARDIS, so we can talk?"

* * *

Who is the other Time Lord?


	8. Chapter 8 A New TARDIS, at last

Sorry, it's taken so long for me to upload this.

Enjoy.

A New TARDIS, at last.

Buccaneer?

Why did this Time Lord call him that, but Clegg quickly guessed from the look of recognition on the other Time Lords' face that the pair of them were acquainted with, and that meant the other and he had met before? But Clegg had to admit the title 'Buccaneer' suited him better - he had considered calling himself 'the Doctor', but he had to admit 'Buccaneer' was a lot more exciting. It had a bit more panache that the name 'Doctor' lacked.

Clegg nodded, filing the name away for the future, and he followed the other Time Lord into his TARDIS, but he didn't dare let his guard down. The moment he stepped over the dimensional threshold, he looked around the console room.

Unlike the TARDIS he had waiting for him in London, which the latest top of the line model, this TARDIS was much much older. A lot older. Clegg could tell this TARDIS was well travelled like the Time Lord was. The console room was massive and fairly roomy with the walls made entirely from wood, while there were columns made from a gleaming marble that supported the ceiling, and the room was dotted with tables, chairs and shelves crammed full of books, Bric a brac and pieces of art from various times and places. The console itself featured the traditional hexagonal shape, but the controls looked fairly low tech, but Clegg knew what each control did even if this console was missing some of the features he himself was familiar with modern day TARDISes. One of the most interesting things in the console room was the stuffed alligator suspended from the ceiling between two columns. That was unexpected.

"Interesting decor," Clegg commented as he looked around, studying the TARDIS; the jewels, scrolls shoved into bookshelves and wall racks and cupboards crammed with all kinds of stuff. It was like being in the presence of a hoarder with a dimensionally transcendental living space.

The other Time Lord sent him a sharp look. "You know, that is the first time you have ever commented about the Desktop of my TARDIS," he said conversationally. A thought was entering his mind about the reasons why his old associate was suddenly interested in the decor of his ship, when in the past he had always believed the Buccaneer had seen it before, and as a result wasn't really impressed. "Often during our business arrangement you just ignore the decorations, but this is the first time you have taken any notice."

Kicking himself for saying the wrong word when it had occurred to him already that he and this other Time Lord had met each other in his future but in the other's past, Clegg licked his lip as he tried to work out the appropriate thing to say. He was prepared to attack the other Time Lord in case he didn't co-operate, and after recent events, since the betrayal of his crew he didn't care anymore about things like fair play just to get back to the TARDIS he had waiting for him in London, but the other Time Lord chuckled to himself. "I always wondered how you were able to find me, and make the business arrangement sound appealing," he said to himself, "but now I think I understand. You knew me when we first met, but you don't seem to recognise me at all."

The old Time Lord laughed suddenly. "I have gone back in your timeline," he cheered as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard as he figured it out for himself, but Clegg didn't say a word in case his jeopardised so much. "What happened, you're usually very careful? You may as well tell me."

"Alright," Clegg told him, "but first tell me who you are. You've got me at a disadvantage."

"Ain't that the truth?" The Time Lord replied satirically. "I am known as Astrolabus."

That name certainly struck a chord with Clegg. "Why are you here?"

"I've been coming to this little world for centuries. It has so many things, things I need to claim as my reward."

"Reward? What reward?" Clegg asked him curiously.

Astrolabus speared him with a look. "For helping our fellow Time Lords break free and explore the cosmos."

Clegg looked around the control room of the TARDIS thoughtfully before he finally recognised the name. "Astrolabus. The thief of time," he whispered, looking at the ancient Time Lord with recognition. "You pioneered the exploration efforts of the Time Lords, made us use our time travel ships to actually get out into the universe. But you wanted more than simple accolades. You wanted to plunder the pasts of thousands of worlds. You began by stealing the Book of the Old Time."

"It was a reward, Buccaneer," the old Time Lord retorted sharply to his infinitely younger counterpart before heading for the TARDIS controls, but he accepted the younger Time Lord's statement with grace, and more than a little pride about what he had spent his lifetimes doing.

"Anyway, we're not so different - you and I; both Time Lords, both adventurers, both piratical thieves."

Clegg had to accept the old Time Lord had a point there even if he had never actually stolen something as precious as the Book of the Old Time. "True enough," he said before looking around. "I have to admit, you've got an enormous amount here."

Astrolabus nodded proudly. He had been plundering and exploring the universe out of kleptomaniac greed for thousands of years now, claiming his 'reward' as he saw it for charting time's meridians and freeing Gallifrey from the bonds of the present. But when he did plunder the past…. his TARDIS had massive rooms containing his collections, and he would often admire them. But as he grew ever closer to his next regeneration, Astrolabus was hoping his next body was young and strong, much like the Buccaneer's current incarnation. He knew the younger Time Lord had regenerated - he could see it.

But as he looked at the other Time Lord - Astrolabus had encountered other Time Lords over the centuries of course, never once saying hello to them though whenever he had wanted to, he would reach out with his mind and touch theirs ever so slightly - he was delighted at the chance to have a chat, especially with the Buccaneer, even if this Buccaneer was not like the ones he had encountered before. It was a risk of course - making enough psychic contact with the Time Lords he'd encountered distantly over the years while back on Gallifrey the others were content to sit and watch, but he had not spoken to another of his kind for centuries. The Buccaneer didn't really count, of course.

But even when he encountered this particular Time Lord whenever the two of them met up and agreed to plunder ships and worlds for their treasures, their relationship was all business.

Maybe-.

"Yes, yes indeed," Astrolabus proclaimed proudly with a wide grin, gesturing at some of the things scattered around the room as though he and his guest were at an auction house seeing what was for sale. "Some of these items go back thousands of years, but tell me something - how is it you need my help?" he finished and sat in a very old and worn out armchair.

Clegg began to speak. He told Astrolabus about arriving on the planet, describing how he and the other Time Lord had been exploring the local culture before the mugging, and how his partner had been murdered. He described how he himself had been critically injured and how, in order to escape his attackers, he had leapt onto the back of a coach and had regenerated on the road.

Astrolabus listened silently as his old partner and ally and accomplice described how suffering from post-regenerative confusion he had wound up being press-ganged into service onboard a naval warship. The old Time Lord listened without much surprise at how Clegg had led a mutiny onboard the ship, but when the younger Time Lord noticed his reaction, Astrolabus said, "Naval mutinies are commonplace in this time period."

Clegg described his earlier exploits as the captain of the pirate ship, Seal. He described the frustration he had felt with the primitive technology he had been forced to work with, and Astrolabus couldn't blame him. Finally, Clegg described the second mutiny his crew had taken part in - with him being the general target after a string of bad luck until he had managed to escape.

When Clegg was finished Astrolabus looked at him with a certain admiration. "Now you need me to help you return to your TARDIS, am I right?"

"Yes," Clegg replied.

"Tell me the coordinates," Astrolabus ordered, moving towards the console and preparing to input the controls into the directional unit. Clegg stepped closer towards him, keeping an eye on both of his hands, telling him the coordinates of the TARDIS. Finally, Astrolabus engaged the drive units and the TARDIS dematerialised.

Clegg closed his eyes as he felt his senses hit by the timelessness of the Time Vortex. It had been years since he had been outside normal time and space, and it felt wonderful. The distance was a short one, and Astrolabus went over to the keyboard where the chameleon circuit was programmed by manual via machine code. He studied the computer for a moment, and then he punched in new instructions. Finally, Astrolabus's TARDIS materialised in London, and the older Time Lord checked the readings on the scanner, then he grunted in satisfaction. "We've arrived," he proclaimed grandly.

Clegg checked the readings and the view on the scanner screen. It had been a long time since he had been to London, and he had problems with the geography of the city still. Worse, thanks to the regeneration he had gone through, his mind had been shaken up, but he knew that he was in the right place where the TARDIS was located, he had spent a while triangulating the coordinates thanks to the key.

"Thank you," Clegg said to Astrolabus.

"You are welcome," Astrolabus replied. "I must admit, I am surprised that I have helped you, a younger version of my most frequent partner."

Clegg wished he would stop talking about this future - he still had no real idea about this so-called future he was meant to have with this man. Astrolabus pressed the control on the console and the doors opened. "I shall look forward to meeting you again, Buccaneer, until next time…."

Clegg bowed his head and poked his head out through the doors to make sure he was in the right point of space-time, using the TARDIS key to be sure, and he nodded in satisfaction after a moment when he was sure the TARDIS was here.

But he wasn't expecting a hand to shove him out of the TARDIS. "Ooomph!" he groaned as he landed on the cobbled ground.

"Beam me up, Scotty!" Astrolabus shouted, "DIVE, DIVE, DIVE! Sorry Buccaneer, but I've got places to go, places to plunder!"

Bemused by the gibberish being spouted from Astrolabus's mouth, Clegg glared at the TARDIS door as the mad Time Lord left Earth, promising himself to get him back for that. He picked himself up before looking around in case that gang which had attacked him the last time he'd been in this filthy city were lurking around, but if they were then he would be ready for them - he had come too far to be brought down by a bunch of humans.

Walking away from the landing point Astrolabus had brought him too - Clegg wondered more about this partnership the pair of them would be having, but until they met again he wouldn't care, but he would still get the old bastard back for pushing him out of his TARDIS like that, but for now all Clegg wanted to do was escape this hostile century, and begin his travels through time and space.

And resume his life as a pirate. Clegg paused in his tracks as he thought about the name Astrolabus had given him. Buccaneer. It was quite catchy, he thought to himself, more exciting than Clegg, or the Doctor come to that.

Yes, he thought to himself, that name does sound right, though I don't like the idea of a self-fulfilling paradox - Astrolabus telling me about the name instead of leaving the choice up to me. There's nothing I can do. I know there isn't.

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Inside his TARDIS, Astrolabus was rushing madly around the console to set the controls for the next adventure. He knew he had just placed a self-fulfilling paradox into the timeline of the Buccaneer, but if his future partner was going to meet him in the future then he would need to have the right name.

His mind may be fogging - a sure sign he was getting old in his current incarnation, but Astrolabus remembered the first meeting he had with the Buccaneer very well indeed. He knew the Time Lord pirate had been travelling through time and space for a long time by the time they'd met each other, knew that the Buccaneer had garnered a very big reputation for himself as a pirate.

The two of them had not hit it off well at first, but that was natural. Astrolabus was older, more experienced than the Buccaneer, but the younger Time Lord was sure of himself and had only expended one regeneration whereas Astrolabus was in his eleventh life (he had been careless during his sixth, seventh and eighth lives - he had been very careless and he had gotten into a lot of trouble before his ninth self-had only come about because his eighth had made a truly terrible mistake that deeply affected him through the regeneration), and he was experienced as a pirate himself.

But he had seen the Buccaneer in action, and he knew that it would only take a few centuries before the other Time Lord reached his level (or so he thought), but he would reach it.

The Buccaneer….. sometimes that Time Lord reminded him of the Corsair, but while some of the Corsair's incarnations always varied like other Time Lords, the Corsair had been proficient every time Astrolabus had seen him in action.

In the end, after a number of clashes, the two had reached an agreement to plunder together, but it didn't always work out the way others would expect, but Astrolabus had never imagined that the reason the Buccaneer knew him so well was that they had met further into the older Time Lord's timeline. It went against the law that stated you were meant to meet each other in a linear progression, but while it was annoying there was nothing Astrolabus could do about it.

Soon, in a roundabout way, Astrolabus, the first true Time Lord, would meet the Buccaneer.

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After the final echoes of the outdated dimensional stabilisers of Astrolabus' TARDIS faded away leaving him once more in London where it had all begun a lifetime ago, the Buccaneer headed for the TARDIS that he had arrived in many years ago with Annar, but unlike the last time when he had approached this world with wide eyes, and a complete lack of caution, he knew better now. He had spent too long at sea, either seeing the brutality of humans, seeing how they fought with primitive projectile weapons, or the way they murdered people for their possessions.

But he was wiser and older now; granted, by Time Lord standards he had not spent too long in his current incarnation, but that was a formality in his mind.

Ever since he had learnt for himself that the Time Lords had agreed with the "observation mission" he and Annar had been sent on, he had been worried that his people would simply come to snatch the TARDIS away, but it just surprised him that they hadn't bothered. He had been checking the TARDIS was still on Earth and strangely enough, it was, but the Buccaneer was only relieved. He had spent more than enough time in this hostile century and he just wanted to leave. Oh, he knew that with the right knowledge and the right technology, he could have effortlessly built a more primitive time machine like a vortex manipulator, and he could have used that to return to Gallifrey to steal a TARDIS of his own, but it would have taken hundreds of years for Earth to even come close to the type of technology he would need to make one.

As he walked through the streets, the Buccaneer was unsurprised by the lack of actual change to the city as he reached the TARDIS at last, and he was relieved that the humans hadn't touched it, though they wouldn't have been able too. The outer shell of the ship was disguised as a door set in a wall, but the perception filter had been turned quite high when the Buccaneer and Annar had first arrived to stop the humans from touching it.

The Buccaneer opened the door after a brief touch on the surface. When he entered the TARDIS, he found that nothing had changed in the console room. Carefully, he headed for the controls on the console and checked the displays. Hmm, he thought to himself, the TARDIS hadn't been touched by anyone or anything.

That was the problem with the Time Lords - they were so good at dispensing judgment on someone, but they completely failed to make sure they covered every loose end. The Buccaneer headed to the controls and after closing the door, he shielded the ship and set the navigational system to a random destination and engaged the drive units.

With a wheezing groaning sound, the door leading into the TARDIS dematerialised vanished from Earth completely. The Buccaneer checked the systems of the ship. Everything seemed to be working perfectly, but the Buccaneer was more pleased with the fact he now had a TARDIS.

Everywhere was open to him, now he could plunder wherever and whenever he liked.

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The End.


End file.
